Broken Hearts and Unexpected Fate
by Zouboss
Summary: Ymir, a thirty year old who lost a recent battle of Child Custody and fell into a depression. Historia, a twenty-eight year old who has forbidden blood that runs through her and suffers in an abusive marriage. When these two cross paths, they fall madly in love with each other. But it is unknown if it's for the better or for the worse. (Ymir x Krista/Christa) AU
1. Chapter 1

The radio crackled. Static rushing steadily like a river. Filling the night with an electrical sound. It joined chorus with the crickets of night. A steady soundtrack a blur.

She had no idea how long the white noise had been dragging on. Probably for a while. Who knows? Time had been lost from her senses.

The vehicle rested across the street from the apartment complex. She watched with a somber gaze at the one window with a light alive.

The glow was faint and orange. The curtains casting a shadow on the slanted roof.

There was a dark figure. Masculine.

Another smaller figure was by his side. A child. A little girl.

She couldn't hear it but the brunette was able to phantom the pure giggles of innocence as the mouth was agape with a smile. The bigger figure lifted the child up. Spun her around in joy. Planted a kiss on the girl's cheek. They were vibrant as the soft glow of light. The shadow bent down to tuck the 5-year-old in bed.

The brunette watched with a frown of grief. She took a drink from the warm glass bottle. Sulking, she turned away from the scene. The sadness overwhelming her and a anger boiling in her veins.

She turned the keys. The car spluttering in response. Waking up from its nap. The static went silent for a moment. Then it bounced back with an eerie call and tried speaking.

" _The system….working efficiently…"_

The brunette scowled at the radio and she placed the bottle of liquor down. Her hand turned the knob, searching for a better station.

Voices were mingled. Music was hollow and distant. The noise played with the air as if were a friend. Trying to adjust to the environment and satisfy the night.

She paused on some indie song. The brunette leaned back not fully satisfied with the song but knew it was probably the only decent thing on. The rhythm matched her mood at least. Even if she did not take liking to the lyrics.

Her foot shifted and she pressed forcefully on the gas pedal. The car's tires screamed and she knew she would attract attention. That was least of her worries though. She was already fleeing from the street in a few seconds and she slowed down when she finally left the block of the middle-class ass folks.

" _I'd like to be your beautiful hell."_

The music clenched at her heart. Reached into her soul and dragged the emotion out. She felt like her feelings were being violated. She was being mocked by the music. The words were nothing to her but the instruments that played screamed at her. Her fingers clenched tightly at the steering wheel. She watched as the streetlight flickered to red. The brunette applied pressure on the pedal knowing that no one spots her. The streets were empty. Everyone was tucked safely into their homes with their families. Happy.

" _When I was a child, I heard voices."_

A new song slowly merged into the ending of the previous song. The brunette liked the beat to this one. She guided her hand to the volume and twisted it.

" _Some would sing and some would scream."_

She zoomed through the streets. The car yelping at every sharp turn. She took a long drink from the bottle. The speed felt good on her body. Pleasing her anger with a force. Her heartbeat played in her chest. Drumming with the music. She felt the blood in her ears. The radio climbed higher with the chorus.

" _All you have is your fire."_

" _And the place you need to reach."_

The brunette felt the rush. That exploded inside her. The sensation crawled on her skin. Bit her in the most sensitive places. Her mouth opened.

And she screamed at the top of her lungs over the music.

" _Don't you ever tame your demons."_

" _But always keep 'em on a leash."_

The surge was phenomenal.

Then it wasn't.

Why?

Because sirens erupted into the air. Their lights flashing in her rearview mirror. The wail of justice was behind her. She knew better.

Her hand reached for the bottle and she chugged the rest of the alcohol down. A burn in her throat followed.

She muttered to herself and wiped at her face.

" _Fuck._ "

…

"You're so damn lucky Ymir."

"Am I?"

"Yes."

"Well fuck."

Eren failed to take humor in Ymir's tone.

The brunette stared at the male with slanted eyes. Her mouth was crooked. Her head hurt.

Soberness was a pain.

The young man was glowering at the taller girl. "It is 3:30 a.m.," He stated matter-of-factly and then shoved her lightly down the steps if the police station. "I had to pay for your bail and speeding ticket."

Ymir stumbled and fell to the ground. Her hands burned at the contact of the concrete. Her knees pressed against the ground hard and she felt her bones.

"Look at you," Eren whispered quietly. He stood above her. Her eyes met his green eyes. The green eyes of lushness glittered in pity. "You're way too skinny. Ymir, you look sick."

The brunette felt her lips curl up into a smile and she shifted around to sit up. Ymir gazed up at her friend and said, "Well, isn't that a _fucking_ shame."

Eren shook his head. "Come on you drunk," He offered a hand and Ymir accepted it.

The world spun as she wiped the dirt from her jeans. Ymir sighed and ran a hand through her hair. A tidal wave of sadness knocked into her and she gasped. Emotion welling up in her throat. A ghostly hand squeezed her neck and choked her. She hated this.

Ymir felt her legs give out. The brunette collapsed to the ground again. Each breath was a whole shudder. Racking her body with power and beating her into the ground. She wished she felt numb. But knives of life sliced through her without mercy.

"You went to go watch them, didn't you?" Eren asked, knowing the answer very well. She felt his presence kneel down beside her and the brunette male placed a hand on the woman's shoulder.

Tears were acid on her cheeks. Sliding down her face and soaking into the stone ground. Her fist clenched and she whacked herself on the head repeatedly. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _FUCK._ " Eren tried to pry away the pounding fists that landed blows on the side of Ymir's head. The freckled woman finally gave in after a few more blows.

He helped her walk towards his car. The green-eyed brunette chose to abandon Ymir's car at the station. It was a piece of shit anyways. Also once Ymir recovered, she could always go and pick it up.

The brunette sniffed the whole way to Eren's house. He did not mind at all. It was not the first time Ymir crashed at his place and it would most likely not be the last. Eren had been a supporting friend for as long as Ymir knew him. He was there on those days Ymir failed to function correctly. Like this one.

The drive was short as they pulled into one of the wealthy neighborhoods and parked in his driveway. Eren was rich. Mostly because of his father, Grisha Yeager. He and his half-brother, Zeke, were following in their dad's footsteps as doctors. And they made good money out of their jobs because of that.

Ymir lost conscience after a few minutes when they left the police station. She was never aware of two pairs of strong arms, (which belonged to Eren and his wife, Mikasa), that carried her to the sofa of his living room. The brunette did not feel the blankets being thrown at her. She never heard the anxious mutterings that floated through the air and rested on the carpet floor without answers.

What Ymir did see was herself.

Alone.

In an empty void.

Curled up with her hands on her ears.

Crying.

Then plummeting.

Grasping for nothing but darkness.

And as she hit the invisible bottom, human shapes of white soared up and hovered over her. Their mouths were open.

She spotted the shape of the little girl giggling. That was _her_ little girl. Smiling. Having a good time without Ymir in her life. She was happy without her own mother.

Then a larger shape pushed the child aside and smirked at her. Victory was his. He won the battle. He told her in a loop. His voice like the radio static. A fuzz.

Ymir cried in her nightmare.

She cried in her sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Historia was anticipating his arrival. Every night it was the same. The same fear. The same looks. The same smell. The same words. He was on a loop. Functioning like a computer system that was programmed to do so.

It was incredibly a burden to have on her shoulders. A great tension that never leaves until he finally steps foot out of the house and drives off to "work".

The blond also knew that the man was not working. Proof within the mail that was crowding on their dining table. A table which was gaining dust. Layers of neglect piling up and never to be wiped off. She had no intent on doing so.

She will wipe the scum off the dishes. Historia will sweep and vacuum. She will wash her and her husband's clothes. But never will she be bothered to demolish the dirt that had made its home on the kitchen's table.

Historia sat quietly on the loveseat. A maroon color that darkened in the dim light of the lamp. Silence an enemy and a friend all at the same time. She shook hands with daylight and they both agreed safety would remain until darkness arrives and floods her with every negative emotion possible.

The ancient grandfather clock ticked. The sharp noise echoing through the house and seeping into the walls. He was coming home. The clock warned her.

Blue eyes cast to the window. Looking through the blinds and waiting for a stumbling man to stomp up the stairs and into their home. The neighbors' lights had gone to sleep a long time ago. Telling their owners to rest and flick them on in the early morning.

Historia bit her lip and she fiddled with her sleeve. Concealing scars and bruises of abuse. Both her husband's and her own.

Time was slow and she thanked it more than anything. She cherished the daylight. She feared the night. The night was unpredictable. Nighttime was the time when a monster arose from the void and beat her till she was numb and expected her to get better by morning. She felt a like a helpless child who no one would believe that the boogeyman was right underneath her bed. The thing was, it wasn't that no one _believed_ her, it was because there was no one to make _believe_.

Historia was trapped inside the house ever since they got married. The only times she was allowed out was for a grocery run or to pick up her own husband from the pub.

The lingering question of escape always hung in front of her when her feet grazed the outside world. _Escape_ was a beautiful word that could not be grasped. Not by her at least. When she is pushing the rickety shopping cart not the aisles and she sees the other shoppers of the store, she is tempted to act out. To grab them. To startled them. To shake them and show them everything he did to her. But she never could do that.

It was impossible.

To rattle strangers. That would be so undignified and startling, she would definitely be put into a mental hospital because of her actions.

Well, why not drive away?

Another answer that had been flopping in her mind for awhile.

The question is:

Where to?

She had no money. No one to go to ever since she was disowned.

Life was utterly so fucked up thing that Historia had no way to reply other than shrivel up on the bathroom floor and weep till her heart's content. Something she was bound to do when her husband gets home.

Speak of the devil.

His figure was outlined by the glow of the porch light. His usually slicked back hair was a mess. Her husband's face was demented into anger. He struggled up the stairs. Almost tripping, and making Historia admit that it was a new record that he did not fully fall down the stairs once in his drunk lifetime.

The blond bounced off the loveseat with hurry. Her breaths already coming in-and-out quickly. She rushed to the door and unlocked all the locks that protected them from strangers from cruel intent. Keyword: _Strangers_.

She opened the door gingerly and met his ablaze eyes with a forced smile.

"Porco," She breathed. "Welcome back, honey." Historia felt her insides start to shiver and she fought back a visible sign of her fear.

He huffed. The dirty blond pushed her aside roughly and tumbled into the living room and onto the same exact loveseat she was previously sitting it. Porco placed a hand on his head. A deep rough groan left his lips.

Historia carefully approached Porco. Her hands placed behind her back. "Did you enjoy your time with Colt?" She spoke as sweet as she could be.

His eyelids retracted and aqua eyes gazed at her with a ferocity. "What does it matter to you," Porco spat, his lips curing in disgust. "How about you make me some supper instead?"

Historia fought back a sharp reply and bent down slightly. "Of course, dear."

The blond strode in a rush to the kitchen and pulled out leftovers from the fridge. Knowing how he preferred his meals, she placed some steak and potatoes in the oven and turned it on. Setting a timer for when it was done. After she washed her hands, Historia headed back to the living room to cater to her husband.

Porco was upright now and he was flicking through the tv. Grumbling to himself at each channel that passed by. His eyes drifted away from the screen for a moment and he stared blankly at Historia for a moment. His aqua eyes were empty as if his mind was just a fog. The blond woman swallowed quietly in fear of his numb state.

A few more seconds of her heart pounding frightfully passed and then he growled at her. "Didn't I tell you to go retrieve a beer?! Useless bitch!"

"You did not say so, dear," Historia replied as kindly as she could.

"I did too!" He argued in a childlike manner. It was shameful at the most. A grown man who could only respond like a defeated child. Porco wiped at his face and shook his head. His blond hair shifting at the movement. "Nevermind." He muttered and his gaze drifted from Historia's face to her chest area.

She knew that look. The hungry look of lust. She felt chills crawl up at her spine as she predicted what was going to happen. Historia tried to stay calm. Did her best not fidget.

Porco parted his mouth. His tongue sliding out and tracing along his dry lips.

"Come here." He commanded roughly.

Historia obeyed. Inwardly cringing at the touch of his rough swampy hands. Once there was a time when she enjoyed the contact. When she loved the man. When she trusted him. Now it was different. He had turned into a monster. Porco had expected wealth out Historia when he married her. The blond not knowing that until one of his first drunk outbursts after a few months they were married. He should have known.

There was whore blood that ran through her.

Her father was not supposed to make love to a slut and gift her with pregnancy. He was not allowed to unless it was with his own wife from a family of wealth.

A Reiss was forbidden from sharing their wealth with a nobody. Only with another person who had money also.

Historia was disowned way before she was born. She did not know her father until she was six years old. Shortly after her mother died. Historia had been in her father's clutches for a good month before his mother and father found out. Her grandmother and grandfather chased her out. She was put into foster care for a good year until someone stepped up and claimed that they were related to her. That they were kin. It was her mother's sister.

Historia lived with her aunt till she was old enough to move out. When she did, she had met Porco and that was when they slowly started to fall in love with each other. She remembered the day when that might have changed Porco.

The blond had received a phone call from her father. Something about how her grandmother had died from a heart attack and a few days later, the same thing happened to her grandfather. An apology was given to Historia by her father. She never heard him after that call. Explaining was soon followed. She had to tell Porco everything. And somehow in his mind, he thought that Historia had money. A few weeks passed and he purposed. Then her life went downhill.

"You like that..?" Porco mumbled in her ear as his hand slid beneath her bra and caressed her sensitive areas.

The wife did not reply to her husband. Stretching her head away from his breath as he messed with her. His touch disturbed her. But she did not fight back.

Porco moaned softly as his he forced her to sit on top of him. His crotch rubbing against her bottom. The free hand that belonged to him was gliding up her thigh, sliding beneath her nightgown.

The sensitivity was a torture. Her teeth sinking with force on her bottom lip. Historia would not give him the pleasure of her sound.

Her mind started to falter as his hands played on her. As he finished with her chest and started to unbuckle his pants. It was a slow progression and even a slower pain for Historia.

Porco grunted as he slid into her. As he thrusted upright, to satisfy his desperation. Historia was in haze when he did this. She did not feel a gratification in his movements. What she felt was his hips hitting against her and hurting her at the strength and aggressiveness. The insides her worked but it was numb in a way. She felt them move but nothing else was achieved from it.

Out of everything, she only heard his pants and then the oven.

Beeping.

Telling her the food was done.

 _His meal is done. I need to get it before it burns._ Her voice was emotionless.

 _ **Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.**_

Historia felt Porco release inside her. She felt it leak and she felt him throw her away like trash. He was done with what he needed to do. Porco left Historia laying on the seat. She saw at the corner of her eye, him leaving to the kitchen.

She then stared at the ceiling.

The mist formed around her.

The setting around slowing fading away and leaving her in the grey mist. It wavered at her. Crawled on her and consumed her.

Historia did not know if Porco left to their room. She started not to care. It did not matter. Nothing matter.

Her purpose was only for her husband. Was that not something they vowed to each other at the altar? They would both care for each other till the day they were deceased.

Historia was stuck with him until she died.

And she could either make that sooner or later.

She could.

And she would.


	3. Chapter 3

"Ymir!"

The brunette's lips drew back in a dim smile as she sat in the backyard, smoking a cigarette. She recognized the sweet honey-like voice of a child filled with surprise and excitement. Ymir threw the addicting stick down and grinded it onto the ground. She turned slightly to watch the seven-year-old slide the back door open and then gently close it. Careful not to disturb her sleeping family members.

"You're here!" The girl hushly said and ran towards the freckled woman. Ymir managed to catch her and lift her up as the younger girl expected.

Ymir shifted to support the girl better. She sent a soft grin. "You seem to get bigger every time I see you, Carly."

The black haired girl beamed at the comment. "Mom says I will be tall as her!"

"Is that so?"

"Yeah," Carly nodded eagerly. "But I was thinking I wanted to be your height, Ymir."

"We will wait and see," Ymir shrugged lightly and tapped Carly on the nose. "So what are you doing up so late?" Eren's and Mikasa's child. Ymir was there the day she was born. Carly was roughly 2 years older than her own child and she shared a lot of features from both her parents. The girl had the passionate eyes of her father's and the slick black hair of her mother's. She was smarter than most kids her age and Carly had the same damn stubbornness like her father.

"I went to use the bathroom but then I saw the kitchen light on so I thought Mom was up and wanted to check it out."

"Don't you have a bathroom upstairs?"

"I was thirsty also!" Carly quickly said with defense.

Ymir chuckled lightly at the girl and gazed to the sky. The lilac color was evolving into the early morning as the golden sun rose to greet half of the world with its serene light. The two both watched in a tranquil silence, admiring the scene upon them.

Carly soon broke the silence and placed a small hand on Ymir's shoulder. "Mom is going to kill you if she finds out you were smoking." The child whispered with warning.

"She will not find out," Ymir replied knowingly.

"Why not?"

"Because you are going to keep this between you and me."

The black haired girl rose a finger to her chin and lifted an eyebrow. "What is in it for me?" A hint of mischief glinting in her emerald eyes.

"Because if you don't," Ymir paused for a dramatic effect and let the girl stare at her in curiosity. "You will fall from my arms and the tickle monster is will attack you!" Ymir dipped the child down and was careful to lay her on the ground without harm. The girl squealed in an excited fear and tried to fend off the woman's fingers as they tickled her sides without mercy.

"A-alright!" Carly gasped between giggles. "A-alright! I swear!"

Ymir landed in a few more for good measure than helped the girl up. "Good," Ymir nodded in satisfaction. "Let's keep it that way."

Carly grinned at her than let her eyes flick behind Ymir. On cue to her look, the back door slid open and the brunette turned to see the girl's mother eyeing them with relief and a sudden suspicion.

"Hi, Mom!" Carly chirped.

"Hey Mikasa," Ymir said after the girl.

The half-Asian woman narrowed her eyes for a moment at Ymir than spoke with a softness that could murder.

"I hope you are not influencing my daughter in undignified actions, are you?"

Ymir smirked. "Now I would not call them undignified, Mikasa."

The beautiful woman just glared at the freckled brunette for a moment then turned to Carly. "Come on, sweetheart. I need your help with breakfast."

Carly glowed at the chance to help and shook her head up and down eagerly. "Okay!"

As the girl squeezed past her mother and dashed to the kitchen, Mikasa's loving gaze shifted into a stern one.

"I know you were smoking, Ymir."

Ymir swore under her breath and lent a pout towards Eren's wife. "Please don't kill me?"

Mikasa scoffed at the brunette and she cackled at noirette's reaction.

"You too, Ymir." The mother sighed and Ymir caught the slight smile playing on her lips. "Get inside." Mikasa waved her hand for her friend to move.

Ymir clapped her hands once and walked behind Mikasa and made sure to close the door. _Free Breakfast,_ Ymir thought to herself with a slight joy. _Score._ At the moment there was a difference in Ymir's life. For those few minutes, a glitch in her system was active. She did not feel reality weigh with brute force on her shoulders. She was prancing in a bliss. The problems of last night hidden in the shadows until the light was shone on them again.

Of course, happiness never lasts forever though.

Standing there with a smile as she watched Mikasa guide her daughter on frying the eggs. As time ticked by she felt the temporary shield start to deteriorate away. The pieces kissing the ground with weakness. Ymir felt the hands from her nightmares start to wrap themselves around her. A shroud of transparent hands touched her eyes and she felt the sway of sadness drop to the pit of her stomach.

The smile faltered.

…

"Porco, wait!" Historia called after her husband as the man prepared to walk out the door. "You forgot your lunch."

The dirty blonde huffed and took the bag from the short blonde. He didn't say a word and turned to leave.

Historia took a deep breath and prepped herself to speak.

"Wait hold on," Historia said in a small breath. The fear was actually a little surprising since she had been practicing almost all last night to spew simple words. But then again there should be no surprise. She had been scared of him for a very long time, what would change?

Porco stated to his wife with annoyance as her hesitance was delaying him from more important matters. "Spit it out already!"

Historia flinched and then nodded as politely as she could. "Yes, sorry. I was just going to ask if I could go out grocery shopping today."

"We need more groceries? I thought you went out a week ago," His eyes narrowed and Historia felt her heart skip a few beats.

"Well of c-course, dear. But I decided I wanted to make you your favorite meal tonight….as a reward for your hard work."

"Mmmmm," The blonde noticed how he seemed to be tossing her words around in his mind. The corners of his lips perked at the thought of Ribeye and baked potato. The look in his aqua eyes gave Historia the gift of relief spread throughout her limps and ease her nerves a tiny bit. "Alright. That sounds good." Porco's hand dug inside his back pocket and then placed thirty-five dollars in Historia's open palms. "Is that enough?"

"Thank you," The short woman took the risk of lending a small smile to her husband even though it was not actually for him. Porco's expression was enough to make Historia believed that he was thinking that Historia was being thankful towards him. "You drive safely," Historia told him as a sign of farewell.

Porco nodded curtly and turned away and made his journey down his nighttime enemy, stairs. "Love you." He rasped and headed towards his car parked at the curb of their street.

"Love you too." The words were distant from the truth but she knew wisely to respond back to his _affection_. She watched Porco flee from view before she twirled herself in a tiny joy. A new strength poured over her and she walked inside their home to get ready for today.

Honestly, she barely had a plan in mind but she knew that she be spending her time out into the real world for once with enjoyment. The possibility of using his cash to run away was there but she still had to think about the consequences. What happened last night was foggy when it came to what she was thinking about. There was always the depressing haze of thoughts that clouded her after the deed was done. She still woke up with a remaining thought. _Runaway or die._

Something that started rolling around for attention as she got dressed into more publicly acceptable clothes.

…

Ymir engulfed Mikasa's breakfast like she never had something this good in her life. Which was partly true. The last time something blessed her taste buds were probably a few Christmases ago when her roommate Ilse's mother had invited her over and had a feast with the family. Of course, that was before Ymir had broken with Ilse and now their relationship was history. They were still the best of friends though. And who wouldn't be best friends with their roommate they had for years now?

"Damn Ymir, you ate faster than me. And I eat Mikasa's cooking like I am going to die in a few minutes."

"Eren, language!" The noirette beauty looked at her husband with a hard stare and then looked at her daughter who sat right beside her at the table. "Carly, what does that mean when Daddy swears at the table?"

"A dollar for me!" Carly replied with a wide grin.

Ymir noticed how Eren tried to feign a frown as he ran a hand through his hair.

His green eyes met Ymir playfully and he said with the least Oscar Worthy performance, "It seems that Carly has robbed me of all my cash, Ymir can you be a pal and lend a hand."

The brunette rolled her eyes. "I am not the one who fucking-," Ymir paused and then sighed. "Shit."

"Three dollars for me!" The girl sang with amusement.

Mikasa pinched her nose for a moment then directed to Ymir, "If you eat at our table then you pay at our table."

"Yeah, alright." Ymir huffed and sent Eren a dirty look as she gave three dollars to his little girl. Eren's expression was silent laughter as he watched the exchange. Carly took the money with wide eyes as if she had just won a million bucks in the lottery. "Well, there goes my lunch for today."

"Oh suck it up," Eren said with a good-natured tone. "You can always stop by and eat here."

"Hey," Mikasa cut in. "Do not get her thinking that she is getting three meals a day over here." The woman scolded her husband.

Eren shrugged and took a bite of bacon.

By the time Ymir left her friend's house, it was noon. Eren started his car and fished conversation with the freckled woman.

"So, how is Ilse?" Eren asked as he pulled out of his driveway and started to drive out the high-class neighborhood. "She still doing that journal crap?"

Ymir nodded and turned the knob to his radio, turning down the volume. "Yeah, she says she is so close to making a big break."

"Huh," The man tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "Your piece of shit car is at the station so that is where we are going."

"It's not a piece of shit," Ymir defended but knew very well it was. She just hated to admit it.

"Just next time you need me to pick up your sorry ass, don't have that car around." Eren's lip twitched as if he wanted to say more. More important and serious matters. But he didn't. He was careful to give Ymir her space. "The sight of that monster makes me sick."

Ymir did not reply and averted her gaze to the window. She knew Eren wanted to step on a more crucial topic but the brunette knew he would not push. That is what Ymir liked about her friend. Even though he was a stubborn asshole at times, the man knew when to not cross a line when it came to feelings. Not unless of course, you were his co-worker, Jean Kirschtein. She had never met to fool but the way Eren ranted about him was enough information for her to realize that the two were a lot alike. And she was pretty sure they had some sexual tension even if Eren was married and had a kid. She honestly would not be surprised if Eren one day confessed that he had sex with Jean. She would be disappointed and beat his ass to a pulp for doing that to Mikasa and Carly but Ymir would not be surprised.

She breathed steadily through her nose at the thought of Carly being hurt that way. If she had to, Ymir would definitely be there for the girl and her mother. Because she cared for them but maybe just so she could make up for the own guilt that feasted inside her. Though she knew Eren well enough that he can control himself. He had grown a lot since high school and had more self-control compared to when they were teenagers.

When they arrived at the station and parked by her beat up vehicle, an officer came out to check on them. It turned out Eren knew the fellow because a friendly grin cracked on his face.

"Greetings Officer!"

"Eren Yeager," The man scratched at his chin. "It has been a while."

"Eld it is good to see you." Eren greeted. "I haven't seen you and the others since the Clorox situation."

"The what?" Ymir asked.

"Oh yeah," Eren laughed and told Ymir. "A year or two ago, I called the cops on these weirdos in an alley who were trying to coax Levi into buying some foreign goods."

"Mikasa's cousin?"

*Yeah him, it turned out that Levi knew them and when Eld and his partner Gunther arrived they all just happened to be friends from high school. The biggest confidence ever. We had a good laugh about it even if I was a little embarrassed."

Ymir made a face of amusement then went towards her car as Eld and Eren started to converse. She noticed the empty glass bottle from last night resting on the passenger seat. The brunette knocked it down to hide underneath the seat so Eld would not notice it. She checked her pockets for her keys and then started the car up.

"Maybe we should go out for a drink with the others sometime," Eld suggested as their conversation came to a close.

Eren nodded his agreement eagerly. "Sounds good. It was nice to see you again Eld."

"You too Yeager." Eld turned around and waved his goodbye as he headed back to work.

"Okay Eren," Ymir called over the roof of her car towards the brunette. "Thanks for the ride, I am going to get going."

"Be careful Ymir. Do you have work tonight?"

"Nah, the boss was kind enough to give me an extra day off."

"Did you call in sick?"

"You know me so well."

"Figured since every time you talk about your boss, he sounds like a huge dick."

…

 **AN: I apologize for the long wait and I promise the next chapter is when Ymir and Historia finally encounter each other.**


	4. Chapter 4

Ymir was afraid to turn the dial on her radio. She refused to hear even the slightest noise of static from the speakers that belonged to her car. So when her phone rang with a shrill and vibrated in the cupholder, it startled her. The brunette had been too focused on listening to the natural noises of the streets that she had forgot she even had her phone with her. As a man angrily honked behind her, she grabbed her phone and started to gain the distance she missed during her distraction.

The woman glanced at the caller ID and felt a brief surprise conquer her features. Her thumb slid to the green icon in curiosity.

"Ymir?" A familiar voice asked from the other side.

"Marcel," She breathed in slight disbelief and felt her grip tighten slightly on the steering wheel. She took a left turn and spoke to the phone. "I haven't heard from you in years. I forgot I even had your number on here."

"You still have the same phone from back then?" Marcel said with a friendly tone. He wasn't one to joke with an aggressive bite. If this was any of her other friends they would have put a slight sting in their words, even if they did not really mean it. "Geez, get with the timeline. Isn't it like the first generation Iphone?"

"I guess," Ymir shrugged not one for phone labels. She shifted in her seat to sit up straighter. She drove in to an empty parking lot from an abandoned shop. The building looked old and had wooden boards to secure its shattered windows. "So...how are you and the others? Y'know since I haven't heard from you guys in like fucking years." She wanted to add " _since the accident_ " but decided against it.

She could almost hear Marcel nodding eagerly at the phone. "A lot has happened actually. My little brother went off and got married-"

Ymir cut him off. "Wait, Porco got married?! Let me guess, was it Pieck?"

Marcel imitated an buzzer sound. "Nope!"

"Whaaaat?! I was sure they would!"

"Well people change Ymir."

"Yeah," Ymir slumped back in the driver's seat. "They do." There was less enthusiasm as she thought back to her younger self. "They really do."

"He found some really cute blond and they fell crazy mad in love with each other. I haven't heard from them in like a year but I am pretty sure they are living a happy life together."

"How did Pieck take it?"

"At first she got depressed about it but as time went by she learned to accept it." Marcel informed. "Now she lives with me."

"You two an item?"

"Nah," The man said casually. Not at all bothered by the question. "She was never interested and I don't really view her that way. It is fine though, she is content without a partner."

"Okay...how about Reiner?"

"Oh you won't believe me if I tell you."

Ymir shot up and curiosity coursed through her veins. "What is it?"

"I don't know…"

"Come on you can tell me!"

"Well alright," She could imagine the grin spreading across his face. "Since you _are_ my best friend, I will tell you."

Ymir thought about that sentence for a moment. Best friends? It seemed hard to consider them that knowing that it had almost been nine years since that last time they had seen or spoke to each other.

"Reiner and Bertholdt are currently married and living happy gay lives!"

"I god damn knew it!" Ymir hit her fist against the steering wheel and jumped slightly when she accidentally pressed the horn. She adjusted the phone and told Marcel, "It was either that or Bertholdt ending up with Annie."

"Speaking of her, Annie is engaged to some scrawny dude. Don't personally know him myself but you would never guess him as her type."

"Wow," Ymir breathed and sat back in amazement. "You're right. A lot of shit _has_ happened." She let everything sink in for a moment and then she raised her eyebrows in realization. "So hey," She said to get Marcel's attention. " _Why_ did you call _me_?"

The was a pause for a few seconds before her old friend spoke again. "I just wanted to see….how you were."

They way he said it made Ymir frown for a moment. The sudden quietness had entered his usual up beat voice. She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried her best to let him down easy.

"Marcel look," The brunette said. "I am just not into guys. I am still very indeed a raging lesbian." She had to add some humor for good measure.

Another silence was casted between them before it was interrupted by Marcel's loud and surprising laughter. She felt her cheeks heat up slightly in embarrassment.

"Ymir, I-I wasn't me-meaning that!" He gasped as the freckled woman rubbed the back of her neck. After his recovery, he cleared his throat and said with a friendliness, "So does that mean you're still with that girl, Ilse?"

"No, we broke up a few years back."

Marcel's side of the phone was slightly cracking as he must of been moving around. The noise lasted for a minute and then the man came back to the line.

"Hey, Ymir let's meet somewhere tonight," It sounded like he was flipping through a book of some sort. "For old times sake."

Ymir rubbed her face and sniffed. "You're in town?"

"No but I will be by tonight."

The brunette felt her stomach sink. There was something in his voice that gave her a dark warning. Something was not right. She felt it in her gut but she could not ask Marcel at the moment. She knew better. Her old friend would probably tell her once they meet up. Ymir looked at the abandoned building in front of her.

"Alright, where do you want to meet?"

…

 _ **Ding.**_

"Order for Number 56!"

Historia shot up from her seat and went to the counter to receive the bag of pastries. The blond had stopped at a bakery to treat herself. It had been awhile since she had something sweet to eat. Not since Porco's birthday.

She shared a grin to the employee who smiled shyly at her and gave her a thanks. Taking the bag, Historia walked out of the small local store and took strides down the sidewalk. Her grip was tight on the paper bag as she tried to avoid eye contact with strangers who walked the same path as her.

A nervous feeling was bubbling inside her. Historia was not use to wandering by herself. Unless it was in a grocery store. The blond made her way through the streets and towards the main park that belonged to where she lived. It was a fairly huge park and had a lot of trees and bushes. The grass was a healthy green and was freshly cut. A good amount of people were currently at the public outdoor space.

Two or three were joggers who had earphones plugged in as they made their way around on the concrete crafted for them. There was a group of parents and children at the playground, the adults chatting as they kept a careful eye on their kids. A pavilion was nearby where teens were playing basketball under the shade. Then there was a skate park towards the back entrance where all ages rode on their skateboards.

Historia let a soft curve to her lips at the sight of vibrant life. It felt good to be around living things other than her own husband.

Scoping out the place, the short woman found a bench that sat under the shade of a tree. The bench was a little ways away from the playground and slightly closer to the pavilion. Her back was towards the teens who seemed to be really into their sport and she had a clear view of the kids who played in the play area.

Historia opened her bag and grabbed a donut with a napkin. Once the food had hit her taste buds she could not help but give a soft moan of delight. Historia forgot how good sweets were. The flavor flooded her mouth and she took tiny bites to savor the taste of sugar.

She was only a little halfway through the donut when she noticed she had an audience. The blond's gaze drifted to her right as she noticed a little boy in a blue hoodie staring at her with a slightly opened mouth. He stared at her with curiosity and hunger.

Historia looked at the boy and gave him a kind smile. She placed the donut on her lap and waved at the boy. "Hello there."

The kid didn't reply and just stared.

The blond woman swallowed the remains of her snack and fished in her paper bag for a sweet. She grabbed a strawberry muffin and stretched her arm out in offer.

"Do you want some?" Historia asked the little boy and shook the muffin slightly to get his attention.

He nodded slowly and then stepped forward in caution. As he was close enough, he swiftly swiped the treat from her hand and rose it up to his mouth. Historia watched with amusement as he took a careful bite from the muffin. He kept eye contact with her until he finished chewing and swallowed.

"FRANZ JR!" A shrill voice of disbelief but also relief cut through the air and Historia looked up to catch sight of a woman with ginger hair in jogging clothes.

The mentioned boy jumped slightly at who Historia assumed was his mother. Franz Jr. swerved his head to make frightful eye contact with Historia and engulfed his muffin.

The mother of the boy jogged towards the child and Historia noticed a man with a stroller trying to chase after her. She took a grip on her child's wrist and wiped the crumbs from his cheeks.

"How many times have I told you to not run off like that?" She scolded and then hugged the boy with a loving strength.

The man with the stroller parked himself by the ginger and crouched down to be eye-level with Franz Jr. He placed a hand on his small shoulder and said sternly, "You are going to be grounded for 2 days, mister! We have told you how dangerous it is to wander by yourself."

"But-!"

"No buts, young man." He raised a finger in warning.

The child pouting, shoved his hands in his pockets and mumbled, "Yes, daddy."

"Thank you so much," Now turning their attention towards Historia, the woman expressed her gratitude. The parents stood up and the woman took a step forward to shake Historia's hand. "I'm Hannah and this is my husband Franz."

Historia scanned the ginger and her husband who had short black hair. She shook Hannah's hand and shared her name to the two. "He wasn't any trouble."

"He is just lucky he ran into a kind woman like you."

"Yeah, he tends to run off a lot," Franz added. "He gets it from his mother."

Hannah punched her husband playfully and thanked Historia again. "We appreciate it." She then directed towards her son. "Now what do you say to her for giving you that snack?"

"Thank you," Franz Jr. said shyly looking at his shoes.

Historia smiled genuinely and kneeled down to look the boy in his green eyes. She caressed his cheek tenderly, "Just listen to your parents next time."

The boy looked at Historia with wide eyes and nodded slowly. He then went to grab his mother's hand and waved his goodbye to the beautiful blond.

The parents wished a kind departure and Historia could not help but watch sadly as they disappeared from sight. That was the first time in a long time she had encountered such kind people. It felt good to be respected like that. To actually be something and doing good to someone's day. Even if was not much.

A uncontrollable sigh escaped her lips and she looked at the sun in the sky. The star was slightly past its highest peak meaning it was a little past noon. Historia felt something within her tug her soul and she shook her head. She would need to go shopping for Porco's special dinner. The Food Mart was a couple of blocks away. Meaning it was a fifthteen minute walk to the store. The time was nice as it lasted. She knew she had to go home. There was no way she could muster _escape_.

…

"Honey, I am _fucking_ home!" Ymir called as she tossed the keys on the kitchen counter and pranced joyfully into her apartment living room. A bag of takeout was laced between her fingers. "And I brought dinner!"

A woman with dark hair parted to the side looked up from a notebook. The sight of Ymir made her features light up and she jumped up in glee. "Oh dear you are finally back from your business trip! Oh how was it darling!"

Ymir threw an arm around Ilse. "Well honey I have some bad news to tell you!"

"What is it, dear?!"

"I got fired from my shit job!"

Ilse gasped with feigned horror. "But darling! How will we be able to support ourselves?!"

"Hmm," Ymir rubbed her chin thoughtfully then rose s finger with an idea. "You can strip for our survival!"

"Right, good idea!" The woman exclaimed. "And you can deal drugs for the bills!"

Ymir snickered, faltering at their game.

"I win!" Ilse said in victory and freed herself from Ymir's grip. The journalist slipped the bag of food into her grasp and placed it on the coffee table. "So how was your three day disappearance?"

"It was two days," Ymir corrected.

Ilse rolled her eyes, glancing down she started to dig through the bag and took out a paper container of noodles. "You always buy cheap stuff."

"At least I bring something home," Ymir countered her friend's complaint and planted herself by the woman's side as they sat on the couch.

The two weren't that far from each other, their thighs touching. The aftermath of their relationship was nothing big or dramatic. It never ruined their friendship at all. How it ended was a lot more simple. No heartbreak at all. Ilse had just told the brunette, she no longer felt what use to be there and was something that never existed between them. Ymir would ever now and then walk out from the shower completely naked and Ilse would not mind at all. No sexual tension would haunt the air. No blush would paint across their cheeks. The two of them were comfortable around each other. A close bond that was hard to break. Even if it was platonic.

A few hours of the both of them on the couch, watching TV with chatter here and there. Once the clock glowed with seven o'clock, Ymir grunted and started to clean their trash of Chinese food.

"Are you going somewhere?" Ilse inquired as she scribbled in her journal. A faint trace of ink was placed on her temple where she had pressed in thought.

Ymir was in the kitchen as her roommate spoke. The freckled woman glanced over the counter where she could catch a glimpse of her friend sitting in the couch. "Yeah," She said with monotone. "Off to see Marcel. He just texted me to meet up with him."

The sound of pen writing on paper stopped. Ilse's rough draft put to a stop. The dark haired woman questioned, "Marcel's back?"

She responded with a noise of confirmation and grabbed her keys. As Ymir made her way out of the kitchen, she came face-to-face with Ilse at the door. "Pardon me?" Ymir was taken back by the stern look on her friend's face. She felt a worry about her questioning what she was doing. Since Ilse _was_ good at asking questions, she knew there was no way at avoiding an answer. It was kinda of her thing.

"Give me your keys," Ilse placed her hand out. Ymir obeyed not knowing where this was going. She was about to ask for an explanation but then her friend spoke before her. "Now go!"

"You are making me walk….?"

"Do not want to risk you getting arrested again, Ymir. Better to walk drunk than drive drunk."

Ymir frowned at her friend. "One, who told you I got arrested last night? And two, I was not planning to even drink. Did I say I was going to a bar?"

"Ymir," Ilse clicked her tongue and placed a hand on her shoulders. "I am your best friend. And an ex. I know you better than anyone else knows you."

The brunette shrugged, knocking the hands from contact of her shoulders. She moved past Ilse in silence. Grabbing the door handle, Ymir took one last look at her friend.

Ilse had her arms crossed. Her eyes watched her with a worried caring look.

"Goodbye Ilse, see you in a bit," Ymir sighed softly and could not help but smile as her friend grinned.

Ilse could not help herself and hugged Ymir tightly. Ymir was shocked for a moment and then returned the hug. "Be safe, Ymir." Ilse mumbled against her.

After that, Ymir made her away from the apartment complex and walked down the sidewalk towards the local bar. She felt a warm feeling burn inside her. Ymir was lucky to have good friends like Ilse and Eren. She had to start showing her appreciation more to them. Eren and his family was always there for her. Carly made her days always a little brighter and Mikasa was there to straighten her out. Eren, of course, had her back. No matter what situation. _I mean what friend bails you out at three a.m in the morning?_ Ymir mused to herself.

Her friends were like a small ray of sunshine that crept through the dark storm that was inside her. For moments, she has meaning. Ymir wished they lasted longer but it was pretty much impossible.

She knew she would never be satisfied. Not until she got _her_ child back.

The lose was fatal. The aftermath was still going on. It had not been long since she lost the battle of custody over the living being she had given birth too. Ymir was still very depressed about it. She had no idea if her life would be great again. Ymir did not even no if she ever even had a chance of getting her little girl back.

She felt her throat tighten. An image flashed in her mind. A memory. A newborn cradled in her arms. Her wails calming at the sight of her mother. The freckled woman was slick with sweat but she did not care. Recovery far from her mind, she breathed heavily and caressed the cheek of her baby.

The first years were incredible. Even if sleep deprivation was a common thing at the time. Ymir had her child against her chest, rocking the baby and shushing it to sleep. It was midnight and she was tired. But when the soft features casted over her child's face as she drifted to sleep, Ymir knew she would not have it any other way.

And Ymir could have been there until the child was an adult. But not all good things seemed to stay.

Because _he_ suddenly came into the picture.

And the battle raged on without mercy.

And with a flash it was settled.

Disbelief clouding her face as the judge said his final words.

His hammer went down to pound.

 _ **CRASH!**_

Ymir lost her footing and landed on her ass. A grunt escaping her lips as she comprehended what she just happened.

"Oh my gosh! I am so sorry! I didn't see you there! Are you alright? Do I need to call someone? Can you hear me? I am really sorry!"

The brunette rubbed her throbbing side. "Watch where you are fu-" Ymir looked up at the owner of the frantic voice and felt her mouth go dry.

She offered a hand towards Ymir. Her blonde hair glowed with the light. Her soft smile was more soft than a newborn kitten. Her skin was milky white. And her….eyes. Ymir felt herself drown in the sea and she didn't want to resurface.

"Let me help you up," The goddess said with a voice like honey.

Ymir took her hand, her mind blank. As they united, the brunette felt electricity course through her veins. A burst of heavenly light flooded her as she stood up. Ymir noticed a flicker in those ocean eyes as they stared at each other in silence.

…

 **AN: This took longer than expected but yay! I finally got this chapter out!**


	5. Chapter 5

Historia felt a surge of energy rush through her veins at the touch of this stranger's hand. She felt something in the air form. The blond had no idea what it was but when she stared at the brunette she had interest. There was a fire that seemed to ignite in those dull gold eyes.

She had messy brown hair that was lazily clipped in a ponytail. Freckles were darted around her cheeks and across her nose. Her jawline was sharp and her lips were a faded pink. Broad shoulders were slumped with a tiredness. The woman seemed worn out. Small dark circles were under her strong gold eyes as if she had not had a good sleep in awhile. And even Historia just met her, she wasn't afraid to say that her skin color was not her original. She seemed almost gray.

"Umm…." The woman suddenly said, breaking Historia out of her trance. The blond let a small breath escape her mouth and she let go of the stranger's hand.

"Sorry," Historia flushed slightly and then looked at her scattered groceries that laid on the sidewalk. "Oh dang it!" The blond knelt down to pick up a can. Embarrassment boiling from within her.

As the blue-eyed woman put an item in a plastic bag, she noticed the woman had stoop down to help her. Historia looked up with question.

The woman scratched her nape, avoiding eye contact. "It is the least I can do. I was the one who was not watching where I was going."

"Oh….thank you," Historia said with a small trace of being flattered by the kindness. She continued in an silence that she wished was a little less awkward.

Once the groceries were put in the bags, Historia was about to pick them all up but the brunette lifted a few instead.

"Let me help you carry them." The words were more of a statement than an offering. The brunette held the heaviest bags and allowed Historia to hold the lightest bags.

Historia shifted the plastic on her palms and looked up at the taller woman. "You really don't have to do this."

Those dull gold eyes met Historia's blue and the blond felt another wave of power go through her. Her lip trembled slightly and she felt suddenly shy. Something about her gaze made her feel feeble. Historia did not know why but there was something about this woman that interested her but made her weaker.

"Just accept my help," The brunette told her. "Not any damn stranger would be willing to do this." Despite her words, there was a lightness in it.

Historia complied with a small nod. She was a little worried about the fact that this brunette wanted to help her. For Historia did not want to a burden to her. The blond woman casted her gaze forward and started to lead the way.

A minute passed by before Historia felt she could not take the strained silence. It was unbearable.

"My name is Historia by the way," She introduced herself. "I really appreciate your help." Historia turned her head slightly to glance at her company. The brunette was looking forward. Her brows furrowed slightly in concentration. A worried look in her eyes.

"Hello…?" Historia tried again, this time to hopefully get the brunette's attention. It worked.

Startled, the woman shook her head and apologized. "Dammit, my bad. My name is Ymir."

"Ymir?" Historia said, testing it on her tongue. She repeated the name once more before she told the brunette, "That is a wonderful name."

"You are too," Historia caught Ymir mutter but feigned an expression that she didn't notice.

The blond knew she usually caught someone's eye. Whether it be a man checking her out or a woman envying her. But when those words left Ymir's mouth, it felt different from all the other compliments she would receive from people.

"Sorry?"

"N-nothing! Nevermind," The freckled woman reassured. Ymir adjusted the plastic straps in her hands, the bags seeming to slip from her palms. "I...just would prefer if you picked up the pace. I have somewhere to be."

Historia nodded in understanding and increased her pace. Her home with Porco wasn't far away. They only had a few streets to walk. She was sure it was not going to take long.

"Where are you heading?" Historia asked, trying to pick up a conversation. An attempt to keep the air less awkward.

"Um...to the bar," Ymir replied and her expression looked like she had to choose whether or not to lie. Luckily it looked like she picked the truth.

Historia remembered she would go to the bar often in the past. The last time when she went was most likely during her honeymoon with Porco. She could recall all the good times she had at bars. With her friends and with Porco. The blond never thought about going to one recently but the mention gave her the urge to.

"Are you meeting up with some friends?"

"Yeah," The brunette responded. "I haven't heard from them in a long time."

"Oh that's good."

"I sure hope so," Historia could not tell if that comment from Ymir was suppose to be heard but just in case, she ignored it.

"Bars are basically an adult version of Chuck E Cheese." She couldn't help but throw that out there. Even if she knew it was random and a terrible comparison.

Ymir stopped for a moment at Historia's words though. Taking the sentence in consideration, her lips pressed together in a confused expression. Historia turned back at the brunette and gave a soft smile. A look of amusement shadowed Ymir's face and Historia hoped that loosened the woman up a little.

"I guess.. you're right," Ymir said with a grin. "Never really thought of it that way. If you consider darts and pool as the arcades games, you can see the similarities."

Historia's lips curved slightly. "Good because I don't really have any idea what I just said."

"Really?"

She nods in confirmation.

"So you just said that to make me look like a complete dumbass."

Historia felt the back of her throat tickle with the birth of a laugh. It creeps out between her lips and she feels lighter than before. Even if it was small, the feeling of her body shaking for a moment in positivity gave an ease to her troubled mind. It felt good to laugh.

Ymir face goes red and she tries to wipe away the color. "Um...ah..," Ymir stuttered with a look of stupidity.

"You have a way with words Ymir," Historia could not help but comment. She had to thank her somehow. Even if it was not directly.

The brunette's eyes light up for a moment and her slouched shoulders rise slightly. "My friends say that often."

The blond turned around and noticed that her street was coming up. Historia slowed her pace as they approached a stop sign and turned around to face Ymir. Her swerve of the body made her realize that this woman was quite tall.

"I can take it from here," Historia said with a soft expression. She really did not want to say goodbye but it was necessary. If Porco was home, she would be in trouble for even bringing Ymir to the steps of their house. Plus, it is not like Ymir and her were friends. They really had no need to see each other again. But the thought of departing left a sadness at the edge of her heart. It was feeble compared to all the other emotions inside of Historia but it was still there. There was something about Ymir that Historia could feel from deep within her.

The brunette hesitated as if she were about to refuse Historia. Then she thought against it and handed over the bag. Ymir carefully tried to give the plastic bag to Historia but the attempt was futile.

The strap slipped out of Historia's slender fingers and the cans of vegetables crashed onto the sidewalk.

"Fuck!" Ymir cursed as a can of green beans split open and leaked out. "Shit," Ymir placed a hand on the back of her head. "I am so sorry."

 _I doubt Porco was going to eat those anyways._ Historia could not help but think as Ymir freaked.

Ymir slipped her hand into her jeans back pocket and offered Historia a ten dollar bill. "Here, take it."

"Huh?" She was surprised by the gesture and denied. "I can't. The can was only around two dollars. That would not be fair."

"Just. Take. It." Ymir leaned towards Historia and slipped it in her shirt's pocket.

"Bu-!"

"I am going to feel like complete shit for the rest of the night if you don't."

Historia bit her bottom lip, not wanting to take what Ymir had given. The brunette was persistent though. She would probably not rest until Historia complied.

"Fine," Historia sighed in a defeat. She took the bag that Ymir had lifted from the ground. "Thank you for helping me. But surely I owe you now?"

"No problem," The other woman nodded. Her eyes lowered for a moment and then a shy grin crept up onto her face. "Um, I think I might have an idea to get us even."

"What might that be?"

"Mmm, maybe you could meet me somewhere tomorrow?" There was hope in her voice as Ymir spoke.

Historia had no clue if she would be able to do so. And it depended on what time Ymir wanted to meet her. She could not do something in the evening for that was when Porco came home.

"Sure, but may I have your number? I would like to be able to contact you just in case something comes up."

Ymir rose her eyebrows. Historia noticed the tips of her ears were red. "Wait, you will actually go?"

"I see why not? I am in your debt after all." Historia liked the way Ymir smiled sheepishly. It was...cute. A smile like that coming from a cold looking woman like her was abnormal but nice.

"Do you have your phone on you?" Ymir asked, getting out her own device.

Historia's heart dropped at that. She didn't even possess one. Porco broke the last one she had in an angry fit. He had never allowed her to have a new one after that.

The blond swallowed and shook her head.

"Oh," Ymir started to fumble around her pants then found a small pen in her front pocket. She uncapped it and tested it on her palm. Nothing marked. She shook it aggressively and tried again. This time it worked. "Paper?"

"No."

"I am going to have to write my number on you, not unless you can remember it."

Historia outstretched her arm as permission. She would have to hide it from her husband. "Write on the inside of my arm."

"Of course," Ymir bobbed her head and gently took hold of Historia's wrist.

Historia stiffened at her touch and then relaxed. She watched as the woman softly wrote on her skin, the sensation sending a small chill to crawl up her spine. Historia shuddered.

Ymir looked up from her writing. Her eyebrows knitted together and she frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah," Historia nodded and tried to not pay attention to Ymir's touch. "I am fine." It felt odd to be touched by someone other than Porco. Specially since it wasn't strong, her grasp was not tight on her wrist.

Once the tip of the pen left her skin, Historia withdrew her arm and placed it to her side. Her grip tightened on the plastic straps. She looked up at Ymir and smiled gently. "Thanks."

Ymir let a cool smile invade her face. "Just call me whenever you have time."

"I will, bye Ymir." Historia took a step back preparing to leave.

"See you, Historia." Ymir flicked a hand at the blond and started to walk away.

Historia glanced one more time at Ymir. Something in her chest bubbling in a newfound excitement. _I really want to see her again._ And then a realization hit her. _She could be my escape out of here._

 _.-.-.-.-._

 **AN: Thanks for all the reviews guys! I appreciate them a lot! And also a thanks to all who have read/fav/followed!**


	6. Chapter 6

There was a stupid grin on her face. She could feel it. Her cheeks hurt at the simple effort of smiling this much. It hadn't been that long since she started grinning, surely? Possibly life was so inevitably fucked up that it had been a while since she genuinely smiled with a bubbly happiness.

She can't deny there was always those brief moments of happiness. Like those times with the Yeagers or when Ilse manages to make a funny they never seemed to last. She appreciated them more than ever but what she was feeling right now was almost like she was on a drug.

Ymir wanted more of what she was experiencing.

It was almost impossible in her mind that she could feel this way again. Maybe she really did run into a goddess. Despite the sinner she was, she was blessed with a heavenly presence and now she almost felt as she was cleansed of all the evil she had done in her line. _Almost._

When the brunette reached the bar, she had to hesitate for a moment. The smile she had on her face dying away to a thoughtfulness. She was aware of what might come. What might Marcel bring when she finally met him after all these years. He brought up trouble in the past. It was bound to happen again. Old habits die hard. Ymir had no doubt that her old...friend was still doing what he started in high school.

"Are you going in or not?" A grizzly voice startled her from behind.

Ymir turned to glare at the owner of the voice and was met back with a cold hard stare. She stepped aside for the man to walk in. He trudged past her, hitting her shoulder on the way.

"Asshole…" Ymir muttered and followed inside. The brunette made sure to avoid him and sat herself over to where the bartender worked.

As the brunette pulled up a stool and sat herself down, the bartender came her way with a smirk.

"Ymir," The young woman greeted as she stood in front of mentioned brunette. "Didn't think I would see you here so soon."

"Yelena," Ymir nodded toward her acquaintance. "I hope you didn't miss me." She sent a wink to the tall blond.

She huffed in reply and prepared a drink in a few swift movements. Setting the glass down with a "clink", Yelena leaned onto the counter. "What's the occasion this time?"

Ymir took a long drink with a finger raised up. The alcohol burned her throat and comforted her mental state. If she wanted her kid back, she would have to give this up. She was willing to, but not at that moment. She had that urge to just get wasted and become numb. But she couldn't do that to Eren or Ilse. Ymir would of harmed herself if it wasn't for the people out there that cared for her. She had to do this for others. For her kid, for her best friend who was a former lover and for the Yeagers.

"Getting a divorce," Ymir replied, setting the drink down with a sigh. Yelena flashed her an unamused look. "Fine, fine, here to see an old friend."

"Oh?" Yelena's mouth shaped in to an almost perfect O. "And here I thought I was your one and only."

"Hah, you wish," Ymir snickered. "Who did you think Eren and Ilse were?"

"Some poly relationship you were in."

Ymir choked on her drink and started coughing. Yelena laughed at her pain while tears formed at Ymir's eyes from lack of oxygen. After she reclaimed air and the color returned to her face, Ymir finished the glass of alcohol and threw it at Yelena. Yelena's eyes grew wide and she quickly ducked down.

 _Crash!_

"YMIR!" Yelena yelped as she came back up from the counter and glared at her. The glass had shattered and pieces of glass were scattered everywhere, some pieces on the counter.

Ymir picked up a shard and flicked it at Yelena's forehead. "I almost died," Ymir replied with a scowl.

"You have to pay for that!" Yelena retorted with a glare.

Ymir frowned, the realization sinking in. _Oh shit,_ Ymir thought with a gulp. _I do._ She was here for alcohol and a friend, not to pay for some overpriced glass! She huffed, preparing to reach in her back pocket.

"I got this," A hand on her shoulder caused the brunette to turn around. A look of disbelief covered her face.

He looked back at her with that warm smile of his. Even when Ymir knew she would finally see him, she still couldn't believe it. After many years, they finally cross paths again.

"Marcel…"

"Ymir," His smile is soft as he greets.

A head poked over his shoulder with a lazy grin of its own. "And Pieck."

"Pieck!" Ymir perked up, a grin finally cracking.

Pieck moves herself with her crutches and drags the both of them into a group hug. Ymir hugged back and felt Pieck's and Marcel's arms squeeze her.

As they pull apart, Marcel runs a hand through his dark swept back hair. He turned to Yelena as she stared dumbfounded at the whole event and handed her five hundred dollars.

Yelena refused, her look one of disbelief. "It's only 25 dollars."

"Yeah, I know," Marcel responded calmly. "It's also for our audience." His shoulders move to suggest towards the other people in the room who had witnessed Ymir's scene.

Ymir gave a nervous chuckle as she met the customers of the bar's gazes and turned back to her old friends and Yelena. "Oops."

Marcel patted her shoulder and then directed towards the others. "All drinks on me!" He announced to them with a bright look on his face.

A roar of approval and hollers cheered for Marcel in reply.

"And you can afford that?" Ymir asked with an arched eyebrow.

"He can afford a lot of things," Pieck said for him with a slight edge in her tone as she pulled up a stool and hauled herself up. She looked at Yelena and stretched out a hand for her. "You look interesting, what's your name?"

Yelena, still processing what just happened, shook Pieck's hand. "Yelena…"

"A one of a kind name," Pieck practically purred making Ymir roll her eyes.

Ymir scooted aside for Marcel to take a seat. "You didn't tell me you were taking Charmer with you."

"Aw, you think she is charming?" Marcel cooed with humor.

"She's always been," Ymir scoffed, almost sounding jealous. "Even with the crutches, she draws a lot in." She was being serious. Ymir and everyone else she had hung with in High School were all good looking but Pieck was the best out of them. Even if they had people like Reiner and Eren. Pieck stole the girls away from any of the boys all the time. Pieck was just charming. She was pretty. She had a killing personality. And yet she was younger than them by a year or two.

"Hah," Marcel chuckled. "Those were the good days. Remember those football games? Reiner would always be dating some cheerleader and instead of the girl cheering for his ass, Pieck would have her occupied with her."

Ymir laughed at that. She remembered vividly. Standing on top of the bleachers, hollering her lungs out with Bertholdt and Porco as Eren, Reiner and Marcel played football, while Annie just sat there watching in silence. Pieck would always slip off away from the group and purposely head towards who Reiner was dating at the time. Pieck always had some tatic to get their attention. There was times where she made it look like she was moving to get another seat on the bleachers only to drop one of her crutches by them. Other times it was her getting water and offering it to them. Somehow Pieck managed to keep them in conversation for she had a magic way with words.

"Reiner would get pissed every time," Ymir said already seeing Reiner's red face as he yelled at Pieck when his girlfriend wasn't around. "Porco would be so jealous everytime." Pieck never went far with his partners, though there was this one time. Reiner was at Pieck's house for they were partners for a project and he had forgotten something there. As he opened the door to Pieck's room, he saw the worst.

Both Pieck and his girlfriend were bare naked on her bed, his girlfriend cuddled up against Pieck. The moment his girlfriend saw him, she got dressed quickly and darted out. Reiner never exploded on her but instead on Pieck. She never raised her voice back at him though. Reiner held a grudge against Pieck for only a little more than a month and they were back to being friends again. Porco had kept her occupied then, being the bridge between the two if anything every came up at that time. The poor boy had the hots for Pieck and would do anything for her.

Marcel sipped on a glass that Yelena had set down for him. "Life got even more hectic whenever Zeke got involved with us too. You know when he sent us on those _missions_."

Ymir stiffened for moment. Those memories were something she didn't like dwelling on. Specially since of one incident. She shook it off and agreed with a drink.

"A lot of us split," Ymir commented. "The only person I've been in contact with since high school is Eren, until now."

"Oh Eren," Marcel pressed his lips together. He looked as if he was recalling on memories. "So what's he been up to?"

"He's a doctor," Ymir started, her back pressed against the counter. It hurt almost. The broad sides poking into her skin. "Married to Mikasa, they have a kid, Carly, and they live in a wealthy neighborhood. The house is a two story, 5 bedrooms and 3 restrooms. Their kitchen is basically almost the size of the living room. They have a large patio in the back, there you can see the sunset and sunrise." There was a wisp of fondness in her tone as she thought to the three laughing faces of the Yeagers. Eren's rich green eyes, Mikasa's beautiful face and Carly's intelligent eyes and cute face.

"Go there often?" Marcel joked with a small chuckle. "A kid, huh, with Mikasa….How is she?"

Ymir looked briefly over to where Pieck and Yelena were. Pieck was talking about something that Yelena seemed to find really interesting. There was a calm happy expression on Pieck while Yelena looked as if she was falling in love with the much shorter girl. No. Yelena was _definitely_ falling in love with Pieck.

Ymir's eyes met Marcel's and she replied with another drink, "She is just like them both. The spirit of her father and the intelligence of her mother. Stubborn but kind. Energetic and swift. Carly is their child alright, no doubt about it."

"Sounds like you care about her a lot," Marcel spoke with an interest sparking in his eyes. "She must be a one of a kind."

"She is," Ymir sighed into her drink. She wished her child could be friends with Carly. She had always imagined them being practically siblings. The brunette wiped her face and placed the finished glass down. The sound of the glass dragged Yelena's attention over and she quickly came over to tend to it. "How about your brother? You told me he was married."

Marcel's eyes flicked to his half finished drink and then to Ymir's third glass. He seemed thoughtful for a moment. As if his mind was trying to figure something out.

"Porco doesn't keep in contact that much, I guess he is too busy with his own life. I doubt he has a kid though. You'd think he would be decent enough to tell his own big brother," A touch of longing was in Marcel's tone. The dark haired man shrugged and continued. "I honestly don't even know where he lives but he must be happy with his wife. Last time I heard, their love was undying."

"We thought that with Pieck and him."

"That's different," Marcel responded to Ymir's input. "Their relationship was complicated."

She hummed a response, knowing very well. The thing between Pieck and Porco was something beautifully confusing.

"Yeah, well we both thought it."

The night dragged on with casual talk. Catching up with what they had missed over the years and looking back on their teenage years. As the words drifted in the air and hover around for a few moments, Ymir felt a familiar feeling fester inside. More glasses of alcohol made their way to her and left. There was buzz now. A tingly feeling that was faint but still there. It was almost nagging. It was on a borderline that Ymir now stood on once ago. She had two ways go. Either stop and turn back or go on forward and continue drinking.

She stared at the glass that her fingers were wrapped around. Her eyes were unfocused and she could see the blur of a water droplet sliding down the glass. The liquid seemed to burn just by looking at it. Ilse didn't want her to drive for a reason. Self-control was something that was hard for Ymir. She lost it at times and others she had to cling onto it for dear life.

" _Ymir…"_

Alcohol was an enemy she adored. This drink, sitting, glistening in front of her, could be her last or her start to destruction. It tempted her. She could almost see the phantom hands that reached out and pulled her into a cluster fuck.

"Hey, Ymir!"

The brunette jumped, her vision coming into focus and her heart starting to hammer in her chest.

"Hey, woah, are you alright?" Marcel's warm hand went to rest on her back and she flinched for a moment before relaxing.

"Wha-..? Yeah, I am fine. I am okay," She waved him off and gave off a smile. Wiping her face, she inhaled deeply to ease her heart and went to take a drink from her glass. "Why? What's up?"

Marcel stared at her for a moment. A unsure look ghosting his face for a moment before being quickly dismissed and being replaced with the dark haired man's classic smile.

"I asked you question," Marcel said, taking a long drink and giving a quick sigh. He wiped his mouth with his arm and continued on, "But it looks like your drink seemed more interesting what I had to ask."

"What did you ask?"

"I don't know if you are up to it now, considering how you are."

"I am fine, dammit. Just tell me."

"Okay, okay, I was just wondering…" He looked off to the side for a moment, pressing his lips together. His gaze was towards Pieck. The handicapped girl was watching Yelena like a hawk as the tall blond serviced the customers of the bar. The blond was giving quick talk to some of the local drunks and happy smiles as other groups of, mostly, men tried dragging her over to them. Pieck seemed content with this but her eyes told a different story. If you knew the girl well, you would know that her eyes always betrayed her when it came to emotion. And Pieck's eyes seemed almost predatory and protective. "When were you going to tell me about your kid?"

Ymir froze. She felt the icicle that stabbed right through her. It left a gaping hole for those hauntings to seep out and surround her. One thing she had dreaded, just happened.

Marcel found out.

Ymir swallowed. Hard. Her fingers quivered uncontrollably as she tried to pick up her glass and take a drink. She managed to do it successfully but she hated how she suddenly felt exposed.

"Who...who told you?" The brunette made her voice sound strong and clear despite the nervousness that started to well up inside her.

Marcel was quiet. He was quiet for too long. He took his time as he mimicked her. As the alcohol slid from the glass and pass his lips and to the back of his throat. She saw the shine of his white teeth briefly.

For a few heartbeats everything went to slow motion. The chatter of the men who loved Yelena's attention were muffled now. Pieck's swinging leg that hit the stool, moved slowly and almost robotically. Like a film editor who had to catch every frame of the action on their editing program.

Her eyes widened in those moment. She felt his flashing eyes burn onto her and Ymir met his gaze.

His lips opened to start the formation of words.

" _You can't keep things like this away from me, Ymir."_

It scared her how raw and hoarse his voice sounded.

Time resumed.

She finished her drink in one swift motion as his sentence finished.

"She isn't important anymore…" How bad it stung just to say those words.

"A little girl?" He inquired with innocence, almost if he was just a child who didn't really understand what he was being told. "You _have_ a _little girl_."

Ymir waved her hand in the air for Yelena to give her another drink. Her balance on the line had just fallen forward instead of backwards. She started to tumble.

"So, what?" Ymir chuckled drily.

"She's your kid."

"No, she's not." Ymir replied, the bitterness creeping up in her tone and the brunette had to try her best to keep it down. A ghostly hand lightly touched the nape of her neck and traced it's way upwards. "Not anymore. She's _his_."

"Who's, Ymir?" His voice was soft. Very soft. It reminded her of when he used to use that tone on her. To get her to do things. Whether she wanted to or not, his tone always worked on her. Marcel was so inviting and kind. So nice. So….So...So... _bad_.

"He doesn't m-matter," Ymir laughed, feeling the light pressure going up to her skull. Yelena came by and slid another drink towards her. Ymir greedily snatched it up and dropped it when half of it was done. "She's not my problem anymore." How it hurt.

"I can help you."

She didn't want to hear that.

"Ymir. Let me help you."

He wanted something. She knew as her throat went dry. Extremely dry. To the point it hurt to swallow.

She felt light headed.

Her temples felt like they were being pinched. Like her head was being crushed.

Ymir continued drinking. She finished. She called Yelena, who was just making her way back to Pieck for a moment. The blond frowned for a moment at her call but she obeyed to her command.

Marcel didn't stop her. This fit she was throwing. This breakdown she was having.

Time went by in an awkward way now.

She didn't know how many she drank. She just knew Marcel's voice was continuous in her head.

Ymir gave short replies to him. Nothing to giving. He was trying to explain how she could could her kid back. But Ymir didn't want his help. She didn't ask for it.

"Let me do this for you," Marcel pressed, his hand reaching to rest on her lap. Her thigh shifted away from him and she gave a tempered growl in response. "Let. Me. Do. This. Ymir."

The phantoms soared up above her. The ones she usually saw in her dreams. The ones with the glowing white figured that they had. With the deep dark eyes that were voids.

At the current moment they were loud.

Really loud.

They were mocking her and laughing.

One came from behind her and put a hand over her eyes and one around her throat. The laughing continued. Escalating. They started to repeat his words in a chorus. His words and the laughing was a symphony they created and mastered in such a short amount of time. It was impressive. Her hauntings always knew how to do something right. They were good at what they did.

" _ **Ymir, let me help you.**_ "

" _ **You're my friend, Ymir.**_ "

" _ **Ymir. Let. Me. Do. This. For. You.**_ "

" _ **You can trust me.**_ "

She felt the coming of tears at the edge of her eyes. She clenched her fist and held them back. Not today.

The hand tightened around her throat.

Marcel looked on at her, unaware of what she saw around him.

Lips brushed against her ear and she heard a voice that played over and over again in her head everyday.

" _Do it for me, Mommy._ "

Ymir pulled forward, ripping away from their grasp.

"Fine!" _Of course. I would do anything for you and I want you to always know that._ "Fine, I will do it!"

" _You promise?_ "

"You will?" Marcel asked.

 _I promise._

"What is it that you want me to do Marcel?"

" _Thank you! You are the best mom ever! I love you!_ "

"We can't have the conversation here, let's go share a cigarette outside." He seemed satisfied.

 _I love you too, sweetheart._

"Alright."


	7. Chapter 7

She was curled up on the couch, her legs to her chest and her chin resting on her knees. She stared at the home phone that sat on a small table beside the armrest of the couch. The phone and the charger it sat in were faintly dusty. The technology was not used often in their household. Only the occasional calls from companies would disrupt the unsettling quietness that rested in their house. Even when the phone cried, it was ignored.

Historia's fingers clenched, crinkling the sticky note even more. The number of the woman she had met yesterday was written down on the paper. She had quickly transferred the digits from her arm to a paper when she got home and scrubbed the ink off.

Porco never had a clue. He came home drunk, like always, and used her. Like normally. His molestations were more of a norm now in her life. It didn't matter if she despised it. It wasn't her choice. It was his. He was in control.

And as her thoughts started to fester and a dark mass surrounded her, an unusual pair of gold eyes filled her mind. Slowly, she was guided to the present and what she was doing at the current moment.

 _Ymir._

That was her name.

As Historia could recall, the woman wanted to meet her somewhere and that explained why she was currently staring at the old home phone.

But should she actually call her?

Her grip tightened and she let out a long breath. Ymir was capable of being her escape. She could leave. She knew after their conversation. She was capable of it. But it wouldn't be as easy as any stranger on the street. Historia, for some reason, knew from deep within her, that using Ymir would take time and effort. The brunette looked like a woman of history. She had a story. Something that drove her. From her posture and to how tired and sick she looked. This woman had been through something and might still be going through something.

Other than her physical features, the way Ymir spoke was unique and somehow pleasing to Historia. There was a whole energy that she gave off.

Historia's blue eyes glanced over to her hand that crumbled the sticky note.

The moment her hand came into contact with Ymir's skin, there was a rush. It was something. Unusual but powerful.

She had to see her again.

The more she thought about this unknown woman, the more she became drawn and a urge grew and grew. It wasn't even a matter of choice anymore. There was just one question.

 _When?_

When she should call her? If Historia did it now, would it be too early? Was 11:00 a.m. early? And if she called later, could the brunette be busy and incapable of answering her phone?

 _Deep breaths. This should not be that hard._ Historia tried to comfort herself as she worked on breathing in a more calm manner. It didn't matter if she started now or later, it would still take time to form an actual bond. The start of it would arise once they met again. And the only way to meet again was for her to call her.

"Okay," She whispered. Somewhere deep in her was saying something she couldn't understand. Historia just knew it was important. The weight of this new feeling pushed on her insides.

Historia reached forward and grabbed the phone. Her hand uncurled and her thumb smoothed the paper with her thumb.

…

 _Rrriinnggg. Rrrrinnnggg._

The noise of her phone jolted Ymir out of her sleep. Her heart pounded in her chest, sweat running down her face. Her hand went to wipe her face and she looked down at her blanket for a moment as she tried to calm herself. She had a dream. She just didn't remember it. And holy hell, her head hurt like a motherfucker!

"Ergh…" Ymir groaned, placing a cool palm on her warm forehead.

 _Rrriinngggg. Rrrrinnnggg._

The brunette went to grab her phone and answered it. Bringing it to her ear, she cringed the moment an angry voice yelled at her.

"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!"

Ymir let out a huff and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Home…?" She told her boss as she felt as if her skull would split open.

"YOU ARE LATE TO WORK FRITZ, FOR THE 12TH TIME THIS MONTH!" Her boss screamed back. She imagined his plump red face as he molested the mic of his office phone.

"Can...you like quiet down..?" Ymir sighed, feeling barely any energy in her. She glanced at the clock. It was 11:03 a.m. She was twenty minutes late. "I'll get ready and be there in a bit?"

"WHY DOES THAT SOUND LIKE A QUESTION?! YOU KNOW WHAT, DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT! YOU'RE FIRED!"

 _Click._

"Fuck." Ymir muttered and rubbed her eyelids. She placed her phone back down and went to lay back down. As she turned over, she froze.

"What the hell?!"

The other being in her bed, slowly woke up and yawned. She met her eyes and waved a hand sleepily. "Hey Ymir."

"Ilse, what the fuck are you doing in my bed?" Ymir hissed, every word coming from her mouth sent a sharp pain to her head.

"I am not surprised you don't remember," Ilse mused, sitting up. She lean down to pull on the hoodie Ymir was wearing backwards. Ymir looked down, surprised to see what she was wearing. It was one of her old hoodies she wore back in highschool. She brought a hand to tug on the hood that was on her chest instead of her shoulder blades.

"Oh god," Ymir rolled over to rest on her back and winced. "I tried to...didn't I?"

Ilse nodded in confirmation then got off of Ymir's bed. She stretched and said, "I kept reminding you that we agreed on avoiding a friend-with-benefits relationship. You were so drunk that you could hardly even fight me when I led you back to bed. Once I got you to bed, I helped you get some more comfortable clothes on. Of course, you begged me to stay and you know…" Ilse sent her a look. "I stayed. I couldn't resist such a pathetic state you were in."

"Pathetic, huh?" Ymir covered her eyes with an arm.

"Aw, woman up," Ilse comforted in her own unique way. "You're Ymir. Last time I checked, drunken mishaps didn't bring you down." She paused at the door frame and had a soft smile. "I am going to get ready and head to work in a bit, what are you going to do?"

Ymir removed her arm and shifted herself to lift herself with her arms. "Sleep." The brunette replied.

"Great, see you later," Ilse shut the door behind her as she left to give Ymir her space.

The freckled woman flopped back down with a heavy sigh. She had a splitting headache and got fired. What a way to start the morning.

It was her fault though. She got drunk when she shouldn't of have. Ymir knew the consequences the moment she took the drink that would push her across the line. It made her miss the self control she used to have. The brunette really felt as if she was a much person when she was younger than she was now. Shouldn't it be the other way around though? Here she was, being _pathetic_. If Ymir's past self could see herself now, she would get an ass beating. Literally.

At some point in her life, Ymir had started living by a moral. _Live for yourself and live a life you can be proud of._ Now, she was going against it. Ymir was not proud of the life she was currently living. And she hardly felt as if she was living for herself. Was there even a point to live for her sake?

Marcel said he would help her. Help her get the kid back. _Her_ kid back. That was some of the things she remembered vividly from last night. But the way he was helping her, Ymir knew she was going to hate herself for doing it. It wasn't going to be her full job. Hell, she was just delivering for his customers and taking their money. Marcel wanted her to start doing this in three days. He wanted her to go back to what her whole friend group was doing in High School. It's why so many people loved them. They had self-earned money and high spirits. But Ymir wasn't proud of it. And eventually one by one, the rest of her group were feeling like shit too. Marcel was the only one to remain happy. He managed to keep Reiner and Bertholdt in for a bit before Bertholdt snapped. Reiner quit after graduation.

Then there was….an incident that dragged them all in through Marcel's words. Zeke sent them off and after that they all split due to what happened. The vivid memories were something she tried to avoid but since Marcel came up, they had resurfaced.

 _Rrriinnggg. Rrrrinnnggg._

Ymir shook in startelement and went to go retrieve her phone. When she looked at the screen, it was an unknown phone number. She groaned in annoyance since of her phone had triggered another wave of pain. She was starting to feel nauseous.

Hoping it wasn't one of those companies where you could never call back because apparently they didn't exist, Ymir pressed the answer button.

"Hello?"

…

Historia felt herself quiver slightly at the sound of her voice. She was relieved the stranger had answered.

"Um...hi, this is Historia." The blond winced slightly at how awkward she sounded. Historia hope it didn't bother the brunette too much. She was a little nervous to be calling her almost as she was afraid of Porco charging in any minute and getting angry at her.

"..."

"Hello? Are you there?"

"Shit." A groan was the reply to Historia's question.

"Uh...I apologize, I guess this isn't an appropriate time." Historia felt as if she did something wrong. This wasn't what she entirely expected and started to feel dread at the thought of nothing going to plan. Her very unclear plan.

"No, no, no! Wait...just hold on. Historia, is it?" The sound of movement was heard on the other side and Historia could guess the woman was just starting to get out of bed.

"Yes."

Ymir went silent for a few moments, occupied with whatever she was doing. After another second or so, Historia could just hear the faint noise of a pill bottle. Soon after the sound faded, Ymir's voice came back to the line. "You still there?"

"Yes."

"Okay, sorry, I am just...urgh...You want to meet somewhere?"

Historia felt her worry of having to make that proposal lifted from her shoulders. That was one thing out of the way. She glanced at the time and thought about the usual time Porco came home. She had plenty of time. "Of course."

"Good," Ymir said with humor. "I would be pretty ticked if you called just to deny my offer. I was kinda trying to go to sleep."

"Oh...uh..I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"S-sorry."

Historia heard the attempt of Ymir trying to hold back a chuckle. "I heard that." She feigned a hurt tone.

"Oh, I didn't mean to offend you! I'm sorry!" Ymir said in a rush and muttered a "Crap."

"Don't be." Historia smiled to herself.

There was a few seconds of silence before the brunette started to burst into a fit of laughter. Historia couldn't help but join in.

"Okay, good one." Ymir credited. "How about we meet at that local restaurant by the bank? I'll meet you in thirty?"

Historia nodded despite knowing the brunette couldn't see that. "That sounds good."

"Alright, I will see you there. Good-bye."

"See you later, Ymir."


	8. Chapter 8

Historia was anxious. She felt at every corner there was Porco, drunk and angry, ready to raise a hand and put her in her place. The last time she had eaten out with someone was with Porco but that was before his drunken fits and possessive nature. He used to be a good person. He _was_ a good person. There were just problems.

The blond closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her shaking hands calming down and her mind trying to drift to a more pleasant mental state. She tried to reassure herself, something she was getting good at as many attempts have passed her by. Her most vulnerable times was when she had to reach for a different side of her that was foreign. At the moment, her reasonable part was gently rubbing her back and easing her to a less panicked feeling.

She was out in public. Even if Porco managed to find Historia, she was safe. There were people around. People who would do something at the sight of aggression.

The blonde was just on edge. It was only yesterday that she had gone out. Her two-day streak was already pushing the boundaries and the whole situation made her feel... _wrong_. The feeling weighed down in the pit of her stomach. The sensation crawled its way up, prickling at her skin and reaching into her mind. This was not, in any way, _normal_.

A feeling of a palm pressing against her shoulder startles her. Historia jumped far more than necessary. Enough to elicit an expression of concern from the owner of the hand. As Historia tilts her head at an angle to see this person, she sees _her_ opportunity again.

 _Ymir._

The blond's blue orbs met those tired eyes. The brunette was out of breath, almost as if she ran her way here. Her lips were pressed together as she gazed back at the blonde. For a few moments, her hand applies pressure onto Historia's shoulder and the small blonde didn't want it to end. It was a feeling she hadn't felt in a while. It was comforting and it gave a sense of brief security. But Historia couldn't cling onto it, for the pressure disappeared as soon as it started.

"Hey," Ymir gave a lopsided grin. The look of concern fleeing. As if the brunette knew better than to question and shoved any worry down.

Historia stares for a second. Recollecting composure and swallowing the lump that formed in her throat. "Hi." The sound was meek. Feeble. She felt ashamed.

Ymir didn't seem to mind. The stranger gave a nod as the curve of her lips didn't leave and she gestured toward the restaurant. "Wanna go in?"

"It would be odd if we didn't," Historia replies without really thinking.

She chuckles and it is a sound Historia started to develop pleasure for. Knowing she had the ability to make such a cold-looking woman laugh gave her a pinch of confidence.

Ymir leads her in. The waiter swiftly taking them to their seat at the sight of them. As the two went into the dinning, it was fairly crowded with only a few available tables and booths left. He sat them at a table meant for two and placed down menus. He told them another waiter would be there shortly and strode off.

Historia wriggled in her chair, trying to ease the sudden uncomfortableness that crashed into her like a tidal wave. There were so many people around. It was different. It wasn't her first time being in public but the experience was different now. The difference didn't want to settle either. It was nothing compared to going out for groceries. Sure, Historia was able to converse with a few people if needed too but this time...she wasn't alone.

Her blue orbs shifted to the brunette who sat across her. Ymir had just finished looking at the menu in the short amount of time Historia had adjusted. The blonde could only assume that the woman had been her before.

"First time here?" Ymir asked, an eyebrow quirked as she seemed to analyze the blond.

Historia flushed, the vulnerability rising back up in her. "Y-yes," She saw the flicker of worry that flamed up in Ymir's eyes and Historia continued, "I just need a minute." Her hands went to pick up the menu and she started to examine it while calming herself. She was fine. There was nothing to worry about. If anything, Historia could put a bit of trust in Ymir. Even if it was just temporary. It would be a good start.

A few minutes passed and as Historia settled with a choice, their waitress came to their table. Historia glanced up and froze, her hands clenching the menu.

"Historia?!" The woman practically yelps and her voice drags a bunch of curious looks with it. The brunette looks a little different from the last time she saw her. Still familiar but different.

Historia shrunk back once her name was given out. It wasn't quite a well-known name but just causing a scene and drawing attention startled her a bit. The blonde woman felt a slight fear bubble in her but she gave a shy smile and ducked slightly at her old friend. "Sasha…"

A grin cracks upon the mentioned girl's face and her face lit in excitement. "It's been so long! How've ya been?"

"It's been...fine," Historia replied hesitantly and she didn't miss the look Ymir shot her. Sasha doesn't seem to notice as she continues to bounce on her toes. Historia's blue orbs look over her old friend for a moment. Her hair is shorter. She seemed a shade darker as if she had spent a fair amount in the sun and there was….a slight bulge near her abdomen. Historia lets out a breath.

Sasha takes Historia's reaction very quickly for the woman's grin spreads even wider and a hand goes to rest on her abdomen. "I reckon' you would notice," Sasha chuckles lightly. "It's been harder to hide this little bun in the oven." Historia feels something ache inside her as she sees the brunette's eyes glow with an unimaginable warmth.

"Congratulations." She means it. She really does. Yet despite feeling this way, her voice comes out cold. Detached.

Sasha's expression is one of confusion. "Thanks," Is what the woman replied before taking out a notepad and nodding towards them. "What shall I get for you two to drink."

Once the whole process of ordering is done and Sasha wishes them a temporary good-bye, Ymir clears her throat to grab Historia's attention. Historia looks at her with her lips pressed together. She could see that the brunette had questions. It was clear in her eyes. Historia just hopes she won't ask.

"Historia means history, right?" Ymir instead asked and it took a weight off the mentioned blond's chest.

"In other languages," Historia responded with a polite nod. "Yes. And Ymir, it's greek?"

"Norse, I believe."

"You sound a little unsure."

"I am," Ymir doesn't seem bothered at the fact either. The brunette holds eye contact, her gold eyes solid and strong. "I don't think that's what _they_ meant when the name was given to me."

Historia blinked once, twice, three times. She was a little puzzled by that statement but she felt it was something she should avoid pushing on. The blue-eyed blonde knew for sure, this time, that Ymir definitely had a story. "How many times have you gotten that name mispronounced?"

"Enough times that it doesn't bother me anymore," The brunette shrugged and glanced sideways as Sasha came back with their drinks.

"Here ya go," The pregnant woman sets their drinks down. "Your food will be here shortly." Her gaze lingered on Historia a little longer than probably intended until she finally walks away.

"Is that how you treat an old friend?" Ymir inquires as Historia stared after Sasha. The blond returned back to the smirking stranger and only gave a frown in reply. "What? I saw an old pal yesterday and I definitely did not give him the treatment you're giving her."

Historia winced with regret. In her defense, she didn't know what to say. Sasha was a good friend but it's been so long and her whole situation has changed. "Is it that bad?"

Ymir nodded in amusement. "Then again, my friend wasn't pregnant."

"That would be very unfortunate if that was the case," Historia said absentmindedly as her attention shifts to trying to find the energetic brunette. She didn't want concern growing on Sasha or making her feel bad because of her tone of voice.

" _Very_ ," Ymir rolled her eyes with a smile as she took a drink of water. "Even if he was, I would be more concerned for the kid than him."

"You talk about this like it is a probability."

"In all fairness, I feel like anything is possible these days."

"I wish anything was possible." Historia sighed, a little unintentionally as she glanced past Ymir to see Sasha catering to another table.

Ymir hummed, her slender fingers tapping on the table. She rested her chin in her palm and looked at Historia with interest. "If anything was possible, what would you do first?"

The question sent electric energy running through the blonde's body. She felt a breath of air caught in her throat and she bit her bottom lip. Historia steadily held Ymir's gaze and said with all honesty: "I would get out of this place."

Something blazed from that moment. A fire was unleashed and it raged mercilessly. It engulfed everything in sight and left it to ashes.

"And what would you do, Ymir?"

The brunette swallowed thickly.

"I would fix my mistakes." Historia felt that confession as it escaped Ymir's lips. The emotion weighed heavily in every syllable she pronounced. It drifted onto the table and sat with all the weight it carried.

The blue-eyed blond took her confession carefully. She lifted it and examined everything she could take from it. Historia could practically touch the emotion. She processed it and considered the consequences.

"That is already possible."

Ymir's expression flooded with life at her statement. Historia watched the dead come back to life and at that moment Historia could believe that anything was possible. She felt the strength of something well up in her and she had the sudden urge to cry.

"Here is your food!" Sasha's voice is what breaks the moment and it startles both of them. Sasha, of course, is occupied by setting their meals down to notice what she had done.

The two women are brought back to reality and turn their attention to the food. As everything is put into place, Historia catches Sasha's attention.

"Thank you, Sasha." The blond nods to her old friend.

Sasha glowed and gave her a smile. "No problem, Historia!"

Once everything was settled, Historia could not help but focus on her food instead of Ymir. Thankfully Ymir didn't seem bothered at this and the both of them just eat in silence. When they finished, Sasha was quick to come to their aid.

Ymir handed their waitress cash to pay then finally met Historia's eyes as Sasha went off again. The brunette scratched the side of her face and gave a lopsided grin which the blond was growing fonder of as she spent more time with her.

"You should talk to her before we go," Ymir advised, her fingers sliding themselves in her belt loops. She glanced over to where Sasha disappeared. Historia stared at Ymir for a moment, then nodded. "I will wait outside for you, Historia."

It didn't take Sasha long to come back into sight. In fact, when Historia watched her from a distance, the pregnant woman seemed to be looking around hopefully. Searching for Historia. For a moment, the blond felt a warmth spread through her. It died out immediately but she knew it happened. Someone was looking for her. Someone cared enough.

"Sasha," Historia called out, in a volume that only a few could hear. The brunette managed to pick it up and her eyes lit up. Sasha strode towards her, a grin growing slowly.

"Historia!" She replied as she reached the blond. "Was a little 'fraid you already left. I appreciate that you didn't though. I had a question for ya."

"What is it?"

"Erm, we usually have certain days with events and every Thursday is karaoke night," Sasha explained with a scratch to her head. Lowering her gaze for a shy moment then meeting Historia's blue orbs, she gave a grin. "I would like for you to join us. Your buddy is always welcomed too. And listen, you only have to go one time, if you don't like it, no hard feelings. It would just be nice to see ya again or at least one more time. I haven't seen ya in years, y'know despite you still livin' here-"

Historia stopped Sasha's ramble with a finger to her lips. "I will be there," Historia promised, knowing that maybe her words were empty. The future was unpredictable. A part of her also spoke because she refused to hear more. She knew where Sasha was going. The blond had been invisible as a ghost these past years. Present but unseen.

"Good," Sasha lowered Historia's finger and gave a tiny nod. "You'll have a chance to meet my husband too. I feel that you two will get along."

"Alright, Sasha. It was nice seeing you again," Historia gave a soft smile and wished her old friend goodbye. The pregnant brunette waved and turned around, heading back to work.

Historia watched her for a moment. She seemed happy. _Happier_. The blonde blinked and took a deep breath. Moving, she headed outside the restaurant.

"How did it go?" Ymir's voice drew her attention. The tall woman leaned against the restaurant's window. A cigarette laid between two slim fingers, tilted. A puff of smoke slipped out between her lips and dissolved into the air. Her cold eyes met Historia's blue ones, expressing a longing that was everlasting.

"It went well," Historia responded to the brunette simply. Her gaze followed the smoke that drifted briefly before she focused back on the enchanting woman. "Why do you smoke?"

Ymir's eyes widened for a moment, her eyebrows raising. Then with a smirk, she relaxed and gestured to the cigarette that she held. "It's the only thing that's been by my side when it comes to….diffculties."

"When did you start?" Historia asked as she took a few steps to stand by Ymir's side.

"As a teenager," Ymir replied, not seeming ashamed. She gave a small jerk of her head towards Historia as she released another stream of smoke. "Why don't you smoke?"

"Because I believed it was a waste of my life."

" _Believed_." Ymir breathed for a moment then continued. "What do you believe now?"

Historia swallowed thickly. Her eyes kept steady eye contact with the brunette. Slowly, her hand reached up and took the cigarette. Ymir watched, her lips pressed tightly together. The cigarette hovered over Historia's lips, caressing them for a moment before she properly inhaled. She closed her eyes. Lost for a few seconds. The smoke erupted from her lungs as soon as she parted her lips and Historia let out a sigh along with it. "I have plenty of my life to waste."


	9. Chapter 9

"What is _that_?"

"It is what you will be delivering to one of my clients after you are done with the casuals."

"Okay, that still wasn't an answer to my question, what is it?"

"Technically," Marcel replied, throwing down his cigarette and distinguishing it... "That was an appropriate answer. But hey," He gave a quick pat to Ymir's shoulder and then lifted up a container full of strange colored liquid. "I got you to agree to this and I believe it is fair to share a bit of information with you."

The brunette kept a frown on her face that had remained since she encountered Marcel once more. She knew at this point on, her life had shifted. She could not turn away from _this_ anymore. She would proceed to do these tasks for her friend until he felt she was no longer needed. Until she had paid the debt, is how Pieck put it. Ymir did not know how long that would be. She wondered if she just made a deal with the devil. _A very friendly devil,_ Ymir thought to herself as Marcel gave a gentle smile while presenting the unknown substance to her.

"You're supposed to inject a little bit and this stuff ends up keeping you dazed for an hour or so. My clients call it Titan Serum since it makes you feel 'bigger'." Marcel explained, handing the tube to Ymir. "Zeke and I brewed this. Took a lot of research and exotic rare plants to make. Lots of money put into this thing and now, I am slowly earning it all back."

"Zeke made this?" Ymir rose an eyebrow as she looked at the liquid. Her thumb rubbed against the glass as she continued, "I thought he was more focused on his actual job. I didn't think he would still be doing this."

"Well, he's a doctor _and_ a scientist," Marcel took the container and placed it back in the suitcase it came from. "Every now and then, he will come to one of my partner's labs and make something. Whether it be some sort of cure for a certain sickness or experiment with already existing drugs."

Ymir's frown deepened and she felt something twinge in her. Eren was working his tail off to live up to his father's image meanwhile Zeke, his half-brother, was already trying to break boundaries thanks to Marcel providing for him. She glanced at Marcel, knowing well he had basically been under Zeke's wing since high school. With Marcel in this sort of business, Zeke didn't have to be deeply involved and he could give a more convincing illusion of his productively as a doctor. Ymir hadn't talked to Zeke in a while, the last time she saw him in person was when the _incident_ happened.

"For now, I want you to deliver to my casual customers after that's over with, one of my major clients is expecting his supply of Titan Serum by tonight," Marcel handed the brunette a pair of keys and guided her towards a car that looked brand new. "You will be using this vehicle to do these runs." The dark-haired man tapped a sticker on one of the windows while looking at his friend. "People who recognize this will know you work with me."

"And if they don't?" Ymir couldn't help but ask as she opened the front door of the car and had a look inside.

"They will."

…

For the first time in a long while, Porco was home. He had told her that he was on a little break. That he wouldn't go to work for a couple of days. Historia knew he was lying. He had been without a job for quite some time. He was always off getting drunk. And now, he was home. Getting drunk. She worried about how long he would stay. Thursday was in a few days and she was looking forward to going out. To see Ymir again.

The mentioned brunette had eagerly accepted the blond's invite to Karaoke night and Historia couldn't help but give a small smile at the image of her blushing. She didn't seem like a woman who blushed a lot so knowing she was capable of making Ymir blush, gave her a sensation of warmth. A feeling that she thought she could never feel again.

Historia glanced up from her book to look at Porco. His focus was on the tv and his fingers were laced around a glass beer bottle. He wore a frown and his eyes seemed distant. She wondered why he decided to stay home. He usually expressed his disinterest in spending time with her. He never used to be like that though. There was a time when all Porco wanted was to be by her side. She wondered if it was genuine or it was all just a lie.

Her grip tightened on her book as she pretended to read. She almost felt her scars throb as familiar dark feelings flooded her. Shifting in the loveseat, she bit her lip. He wanted money yet he didn't even have a job. Historia didn't know what he expected. Did he just assume after he married that a sudden fortune would dump onto him? That she would tell him out of the blue that she was rich because she was a Reiss? There was a reason why she was never mentioned in the media. She was a mistake. An accident that her father caused.

Porco burped and it caused Historia to jerk. She took a deep breath as she looked at him. He stared back. His aqua eyes foggy and a mist of lust shadowing his expressions. Her heart dropped.

Slowly getting up, Porco made his way towards her. She tilted her head as he hovered over her. His right hand moved to place itself on her cheek. It felt sweaty. A thumb moved to roughly caress her skin. She resisted the urge to cringe and started to feel herself instinctively go numb. To block out everything. So the blond didn't have to feel her husband.

A fingernail stabbed into her cheek and a dark look crossed his face. Porco forced her head upwards and he placed his other hand on her thigh. Leaning in, she felt his alcohol scented breath on her neck. Historia wanted to whimper but she stayed silent. Too afraid to react.

The faint sound of him unbuckling his pants filled the room and he forced her on the floor and on her knees. She felt her tears form but she closed her eyes. She obeyed him as his hand pushed her towards his member. Historia did what her husband wanted. Because that is what good wives did. At least in his mind.

She couldn't fight back and more than ever she wanted to escape. _Escape._ The word sent an image of a freckled brunette to her head. _Please help me._ She thought unintentionally as Porco's thrusts started to hurt her throat.

 _Please save me._

…

 _"I have plenty of my life to waste."_

Ymir's grip tightened on the steering wheel. Historia's words had sounded so broken. So empty. She could remember how vulnerable the blond looked at the moment. Ymir remembered how for a few moments she was lost for words until the woman changed the subject. Historia had invited her to one of the restaurant's Karaoke nights and Ymir, without hesitation, accepted.

Ymir was drawn to her. There was just something about her that made the brunette feel….well she made her forget for a moment. Forget about her depression. Forget about Marcel. About her kid. Even if certain words set her off and made her remember, most of the time her attention was more on Historia instead. She was glad she was going to be able to see her again. The simple thought made her smile. Historia was undeniably beautiful. But even so, there was something under that innocence and kind words that made Ymir want to know her more. The way Historia would respond was sometimes amusing and the way she reacted to normal things was kinda cute. She almost seemed as if she was not adjusted to the real world. Her jumpiness also made Ymir wonder. Why was she anxious? Was it perhaps she was the introvert type? It didn't make sense considering her looks. She looked as if she was fairly popular in high school. There was something though. Something that made her eyes dart everywhere and look for something that wasn't there. _Or someone._

 _Someone._ Ymir made an expression at that thought. _Someone?_ Was it _someone_ that made her that way? Her immediate assumption was something dark. Maybe Historia was traumatized when she was younger or went through something recently. She doubted it was a current situation. She wasn't married either. Ymir made sure to check for a ring before anything happened. She possibly couldn't be with someone. She never mentioned a partner but then again Ymir never asked. She doubted Historia had one though. Because honestly them hanging out could be considered a "date". Ymir huffed with amusement. _A date. How long has it been since I have been on one of those?_

Ymir got pregnant a year after her break-up with Ilse. She didn't go actively searching for someone after that. Occasionally there was one night stands but nothing serious. Her main focus ended up being on her daughter and she was willing to dedicate everything to her. Well….until he stepped in. She gave an unconscious growl at that the mere thought of him.

The ringing from her phone, fortunately, saved her from her thoughts before they could fester. Ymir was working. The brunette didn't need to be getting emotional at the moment. Looking at the caller ID, she proceeded to answer.

"Ymir?" Eren's familiar voice said as she put the phone to her ear.

"Eren."

"Hey, are you going to be busy tonight?"

Ymir glanced at the time on the car's radio. It was almost 5 pm. She had been delivering throughout the day. She was on the final, but major, a client who was still twenty minutes away, according to the GPS. She would probably be back in town by a little after six.

"Um, no, why?"

"I am driving home from work and I wanted you to come over for dinner and spend the night."

"Okay, I will gladly come over," Ymir replied with a shrug. "Just why? There isn't anything special happening, is there?"

"Nah," Eren laughed gently. "I know it hasn't been long since the last time we have seen each other but figured, why not? I know Carly enjoys your company and I am sure Mikasa won't mind."

"Hmm," Ymir hummed. Her fingers tapped on the steering wheel. "Anything for a free meal, I guess. I need to tell Ilse though. I haven't been at home lately, now that I think about it. Remind me to give her a day of my time."

"Will do," Eren responded. She could hear his car door shutting and Ymir figured he arrived home. "Didn't you get fired though? Why are you out about right now?"

"Who said I was out about and who fucking told you I got fired?"

"I just know," Eren answered the first question then continued. "Ilse, of course. She tells me _everything_ about you."

"Oh, really?" Ymir rose an eyebrow. Did he know Marcel was back then? Should she ask? Ymir really didn't know how Eren would take the news. He and Marcel weren't exactly the best of friends. If Eren did know about his return, he wasn't showing any sign that he was distressed.

"Hey, listen," Eren dragged her attention back. "I have to go. Carly needs help with her homework. Dinner will be ready around six-thirty. I will see you then."

"Until then," Ymir said before Eren hung up. Putting her phone away, Ymir focused on her driving and turned up the radio.

As time passed and Ymir finally made it to her destination, she had to make sure she got the right one. She found herself sitting in front of a large gate that kept her from entering the grounds of a mansion. She indeed had the right address and now she understood why this person was one of Marcel's important clients.

" _Who is this?_ " A voice spoke through a speaker and Ymir jerked her head towards a box with a microphone.

Ymir rolled down her window and stuck her head out. "I am looking for a man known as Willy Tybur. I am one of Marcel Galliard's workers."

"Oh," The voice said and proceeded to open the gate for her. "The front door is open, go inside and you will find me in the living room to the right."

Ymir leaned back and started to drive. She wasn't surprised for being invited inside. In fact, most of the customers had done that. Those who didn't were rather rude or complete druggies. She would have to admit that she was genuinely surprised about how many more normal looking people were Marcel's clients instead of unstable or poor ones.

Parking the car, she stepped out and grabbed a small suitcase. She walked to the large porch and entered inside. Ymir took a breath as she looked around. There was plenty of artwork and statues that lined the walls and in the middle of the room, there was a large stairway that led upstairs. She immediately turned right and went through a doorway. She entered the living room which had large bookcases, furniture, a fireplace and a large 75" tv mounted on the wall. There was classical music playing and she turned towards the source. It was a record player. Besides the record player, there was a man who was well-groomed and had a goatee sat near the fireplace with a laptop.

Ymir cleared her throat and politely said, "Mr. Tybur?"

The mentioned man turned his head and gave a kind smile. "That happens to be me. You can leave the suitcase on the coffee table and take a seat."

"Er, yes sir," Ymir scratched the nape of her neck and followed his requests. Sitting in a large comfy chair that was across from the man, she looked at the man with subtle interest. He seemed recognizable. Like she had seen him somewhere before…"Oh shit!"

Willy's eyebrows rose in surprise at the brunette's words and Ymir quickly apologized. "Oh crap-, I mean-, fuck-, ah god. I am so sorry. I didn't mean to-, please forgive me."

Instead of any negative responses, Ymir was met with laughter. The man looked at her with amusement and he covered his mouth as he laughed. Adjusting his blond hair, he spoke calmly. "It is quite alright, dear girl. Your not the first person to react this way."

"Ah," Ymir gave a lopsided grin. "I-It's just, you are _Willy Tybur._ The former president's son."

He nodded. "Despite my father not being quite the best, he was the president nonetheless. And it's not often you encounter someone who is related to the president. So, your reaction is quite understandable."

"Again, I am sorry," Ymir apologized once more. As her shock died away though, she realized this was the former president's son taking Marcel's drugs. She didn't frown though. She wasn't sure if she should be surprised or not. Wasn't it quite often that famous people had an association with drugs? Willy looked as if he didn't abuse his usage either. He looked quite healthy and stable.

"No, no, no," Willy shook his head with a chuckle. "It is really fine, Miss…?"

"Fritz. Ymir Fritz. You can call me Ymir, though, Mr. Tybur," The brunette told the man.

"Well, then you can call me Willy," The blond said kindly. He closed his laptop and placed it on the table. "Ymir...that is a Norse god if I am not mistaken?" Ymir nodded. "The creator of the Earth, according to Norse mythology. Practically the Zeus of that culture. The personification of primordial chaos. Are you a chaotic type, Ymir?"

"Depends on who you are talking too," Ymir replied jokingly. "How do you know this stuff? I just know my name comes from a Norse god, I didn't quite do my research on all that."

"I am educated in Norse, Roman and Greek mythology. I learned some school and most by myself. They are all fascinating topics," Willy glanced towards the fire and then back at Ymir. "Do you have anything that interests you?"

"Er," Ymir felt a drop of sweat ran down her face. There was something that seemed unusual about him. She wondered if was because she wasn't used to being around someone with such status or there was genuinely something off. "I watch those crime tv shows occasionally. The ones about murderers and serial killers, that kinda stuff."

"Ah," He gave a small nod. "One killing another is quite interesting. Knowing their motive and drive is what makes them understandable. Maybe they were insane or maybe the killer was completely normal."

"Uh, yeah," Ymir replied, shifting in her seat. He was calm as he spoke those words. His eyes glimmered as he talked. As if he knew something she didn't. The brunette couldn't help but feel uncomfortable.

Willy tapped a finger on his armrest. "Taking one's life is a thought that all of us have had. It is human nature, after all…" His eyes drifted for a moment before he focused on his guest. "Would you like a drink, Ymir?"

"No, I am good," She quickly said and stood up. "I, um, I actually have to be somewhere. A friend invited me over and I don't want to keep him waiting."

"Oh, my," The blond man moved onto his feet and gave Ymir an apologetic smile. "Sorry for keeping you. I appreciate the delivery and would love to know if you would happen to come by again?"

Ymir nervously scratched the crook of her neck. _What's with this guy?_ "Uh, yeah, I guess. It depends if Marcel sends me over here again."

"I will make sure to request so then," Willy pulled out some money from one of his pockets and offered it to Ymir.

"Marcel said that all his clients paid already," Ymir informed, raising her hands to deny him.

Willy gave a chuckle. "I know," His lips curved warmly. "This is for _you_."

Ymir's mouth shapes into an "o" in realization and slowly took the money. She didn't bother saying "You didn't have to" because she would rather have the cash. She needed it more than anything.

"Well, I will see you around," Willy said as he walked the freckled woman to the front door.

Ymir turned to look at him as she stepped out. "Uh, yeah, see ya."

As the front door closed, she walked towards her work car and entered it. Ymir rolled her shoulders and took a deep breath as she went over what happened. Maybe she was just being weird. Willy seemed like a nice person. If he was actually a threat, she would probably be gone by now. The brunette sighed and started the car. She seemed to have a tendency to overthink a lot these days. She would be fine. Ymir was going down the right path. This was for everyone in her life. For Ilse, Eren and Mikasa, herself….and for her child.


	10. Chapter 10

She doesn't remember much which terrifies her but when she tries to move, she only feels pain. It took Historia all her willpower not to cry out. She hurts. Everywhere. And the pain is enough to give a clear idea of what happened. Of what _he_ did.

The blond is laying on the floor. Her vision is blurry but she can make out the distorted shape of the loveseat. Everything is hard to see. Almost everything around her was darkness. She reaches forward and forced herself to sit up. Historia whimpered at the effort and she felt the tears that started to well in response to the soreness.

Pulling up her nightgown, she looked at her battered legs. There were bruises everywhere, her knees were cut up. It was enough to make her notice the shattered glass littering the ground. The pieces glittered in the moonlight that crept through the curtains.

"F-fuck…" Historia cried, tracing her face. She felt a scratch on her cheek. It must have been from when he stabbed his fingernail into her skin. The woman's body shuddered. She felt weak. "F-fuck."

It had been a while since Porco had beat her this bad. She wondered why he did it. What happened to make him do it? Historia was sure she was obeying every one of his commands. Then again she could only remember the beginning. When they started. She couldn't remember what happened after that. Did she….Historia looked at her hand as it formed into a fist. Did she fight back?

The tears continued falling out and she hiccuped. Would she recover in time for Sasha? For Ymir? She had to. Historia had to be strong. For them. For herself. She needed to be okay. The blond had to push on.

Biting her lip, the small woman made an attempt to stand up. She made an attempt. But she collapsed. Her knees buckled at the sudden weight. Historia let out a small cry as her head hit the ground. The pain was too much. It was overwhelming. She had to….dark edged her vision. She had to sleep…

…

 _Ymir stood in front of a door that belonged to a familiar apartment complex A_ very _familiar apartment complex. Her head instinctively tilted to peer up at a specific window and her breath caught in her throat._

 _"Mommy!"_

 _Ymir opened her mouth to call out her name in reply. But she couldn't. She choked instead. Her hands immediately went to her throat and they quickly became soaked. Pulling them away, her eyes widened._

 _The warm liquid of blood covered her hands and she suddenly felt the sticky fluid all over her body. She was drenched in blood and as Ymir's gold cold eyes went to look at her daughter, there was only red._

 _She wiped her eyes directing her attention to the front door. She had to get inside. To see her. And to her surprise, the door was wide open, an opening to an endless void. Her feet wanted to move so she could head towards the darkness. So she could run but instead, they stood frozen._

 _"_ _ **BASTARD!**_ _" A figure formed in the void and went to the door frame. The humanoid shape wasn't recognizable but she is able to identify what is gripped in their hands. A pistol. They raise their arms to aim at Ymir._

 _The brunette waved her hands and opens her mouth to shout at them. Instead of more blood leaks out and droplets start to ascend above her. Suddenly she weighs almost nothing and her feet are no longer on the ground. Ymir tries to flee from the figure but she floats in place._

 _They fire the pistol._

 _The bullet hits her chest with a powerful force and she plummets._

"Wake up."

A quick sharp pain made Ymir's eyelids open. The brunette let out a gasp as she shot up. Her eyes burned with tears and the woman moved her hands to scrub at her face. Her throat felt incredibly dry when she swallowed. She had fallen asleep on the Yeager's couch. Looking to her left, Ymir could see Mikasa towering over her. The beautiful woman had her hand positioned to flick the brunette's forehead again.

"Are you crying?"

"What do you want?" Ymir grumbled instead. She flopped back down and turned her head away from the woman and closed her eyes. She didn't have the energy to explain, especially when her memory of her nightmare was already fading away. She couldn't remember anything but….blood. "I'm trying to sleep."

A strong arm made Ymir roll off the couch and hit the floor. The brunette let out a shocked gasp at the impact of the cold floor. "Stop trying. You need to get up."

"For what…?" Ymir tried to growl but instead yawned. She sat up and stretched. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes." Mikasa replied, with her arms crossed, she gave a cold stare at Ymir. Her eyebrows were furrowed in an obvious worry though, despite the look hard look in her eyes.

"What is it?"

"It's you."

"Me?" Ymir inquired and stood up. She wondered if the black-haired beauty would lecture her. Did she do something wrong? Scratching her back, the brunette asked, "What did I do this time?"

"You're currently doing it," Mikasa stated simply. She didn't express any emotion and it made it hard for Ymir to read the woman.

"Eh?" Ymir tilted her head. She didn't mean her crying, did she? The brunette decided to play it safe and say, "I shouldn't be sleeping?"

Mikasa shook her head and threw a bag at Ymir. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she spoke gently. "Get dressed, we need to go before it opens."

"Before what opens?" Ymir peered into the bag, not knowing what to expect. What she saw were a tank top and shorts which immediately made her frown. In realization, she sulked. "What, come on! Really?!"

"You look like a walking skeleton," Mikasa replied as she went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. "All the color from your skin has drained and you are underweight. We both gave you enough time to grieve, now it is time to put some of your life back together."

"We? Do you mean Eren is behind this also? Is that why he invited me over here?!"

"Quiet down, you will wake up Carly," Mikasa warned as she brought out some fruits, vegetables, and milk. Ducking down, she came back up to place a blender on the kitchen island. "I will give you 5 minutes to get ready. After you are done, come back here to have your breakfast. The gym opens at seven. By the time we are done and get there, we will be at least fifteen minutes early."

"What time is it now?" Ymir couldn't help but ask as she started her way towards the bathroom.

"Six a.m."

"What?!" The brunette yelped. No wonder she felt so tired!

"Ymir," A dark look shadowed Mikasa's face which immediately made the brunette go silent. "Go, and don't shower. You can shower when we get back."

The freckled woman obeyed with hesitance but knew better than to go against Mikasa. Mikasa didn't back down easily and if Ymir were to fight back, the woman would win in a heartbeat.

Entering the downstairs bathroom, Ymir closed the door and took a deep breath. Her chest felt heavy. As if some invisible force was weighing down on her. She moved towards the sink and stared at herself in the mirror.

Her tear-stained eyes looked back. Cold and empty. Behind her, she could see a group of white figures standing over her. Their looks of loathing surrounded her. One of them approached from her behind and reached a hand to trace her face. The empty deep dark eyes of the figures stayed glued on her.

Ymir curled her lip in a scowl. Turning on the faucet, she cupped her hands and splashed cold water on her face.

She washed away the tear stains and weariness. As she finished drying her face, the figures were gone. _For now._

The brunette got dressed and went back to Mikasa. The wife of Eren had two glass cups of a green substance on the counter and Mikasa gestured for Ymir to take one. "Drink up."

Ymir raised an eyebrow and rose the cup to her nose. The smell was unusual. As she took a drink, she immediately fought the urge to spit it out and swallowed. Shuddering, the brunette made a look of disgust and spluttered to Mikasa, "That tastes like shit!"

"Your body isn't used to it," Mikasa explained to Ymir. "If you drink this consistently, you will adjust to it. Besides, it is good for you so stop complaining."

Ymir gave a growl in reply and continued to drink it. Each time she consumed it, it tasted worse. Mikasa leaned against the counter, watching the brunette as she drank her own. Behind the rim of the cup, Ymir could catch the smirk of amusement that Mikasa had as she easily drank the smoothie.

The moment Ymir finished, the black-haired beauty was quick to get the brunette out the door. She expected to be forced into Mikasa's car but the woman walked past all the vehicles in her driveway and onto the sidewalk. Starting to stretch, Mikasa gave a challenging glare.

"You gotta be kidding me," Ymir muttered and went to Mikasa's side. "Really?"

"Eren told me you were in track back in high school. You like running, don't you?"

"High School was so many years ago and I haven't been running for a while!" Ymir barked in frustration. She wouldn't mention how she ran to the restaurant where she met up with Historia. The brunette wasn't quite ready to mention Historia just yet. She was a secret for now. A precious one because at the simple thought of her, the broken brunette smiles.

"Are you smiling?" Mikasa asks, tilting her head. The genuine look of confusion is almost comical. Mikasa never was one to be really expressive.

Ymir flicks her gaze towards the married woman and frowns. "No."

The expression goes away as soon as Ymir can form the word. Mikasa's lips pressed together to form a thin line. Rolling her shoulders and flexing her muscles, Mikasa rolled her eyes. "Are you ready?"

Ymir sighs and stretches briefly before bracing herself. She wasn't exactly in running shape but she would have to depend on muscle memory to at least make her survive the run. She knew the gym wasn't that far but it wasn't that close either. Ymir closes her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Okay, I am ready."

…

"Get up."

He kicked her on the side. The pain in her ribs makes her eyes flutter open and she lets out a low moan. Her head is whirling Everywhere hurts and she can feel her body throbbing.

Porco loomed over Historia, his expression twisted in annoyance. "Get. Up." He growled louder this time.

The blond moves her head to look up at him. Her vision was unfocused. Her eyes felt like they were on fire. Flinching as he nudged her again with his foot, she tries to get up. Her arm barely makes an inch above the ground before she collapses again.

"You gotta be kidding me," Porco's voice sounds distant as she tries to remain conscious. "Shit. You really did it this time. Worthless bitch."

She is unsure if he had directed those words to her or if he was muttering to himself. The blond doesn't think about it that much as she feels herself slipping back into the safety of sleep. Historia just wants to rest. She wants to heal in time for Thursday. In time for Sasha. In time for Ymir. She just wants to make it to that day.

…

 _ **A/N: Quick thanks to everyone who has favorited/followed/reviewed and is reading this story. It means a lot to me. This chapter was a little short but that's okay. I've been putting a little more attention on here compared to my other ongoing fic so hopefully, you guys are satisfied with the chapters that are to come. Thank you, again.**_

 _ **Until Then, Zouboss.**_


	11. Chapter 11

"You spend one day with me and now you are running off once again."

Ymir looked over her shoulder at Ilse, who had a pout on her face. Her roommate feigned a hurt expression as the journalist's arms crossed over her own chest.

The brunette snorted, saying nothing in reply. She had been looking forward to this day. The dose of happiness she would experience was only a few moments away. It was addicting and Ymir treasured it. Historia had brought this taste to her. The blond had a piece of something unforgettable. And Ymir wanted more.

Ilse got up from the couch and stood in front of the woman. Lips pressed together, her eyes narrowed analytically and she leaned forward a bit to get a closer look at whatever she had seen. Her dark eyes stared deeply into those gold orbs of Ymir. The brunette recognized this expression. It was one she wore when she caught a small detail that could lead to something big.

Ymir took a step back, not sure on what to do. She knew enough not to react in an exposed manner. In reply, the woman's eyes flashed critically and she straightened herself. Raising a hand, Ilse placed it on the freckled brunette's shoulder and her expression shifted into a spark of happiness. "I am glad you finally found someone!"

"Er," Ymir frowned, clenching her teeth and swallowing the lump in her throat. _Nothing gets passed you._ She decided not to say anything so Ilse didn't get a confirmation on her suspicions. Like Ymir had already said, she didn't plan on mentioning Historia, yet. She wanted the woman to herself, just for now. There was something special between the blonde and brunette. She felt it from deep inside. Ymir wasn't ready to show Historia to her friends until _something_ happened. What she was waiting for to happen wasn't a thing the brunette wanted to admit. A part of Ymir was afraid that what she was only hoping for something that wouldn't happen. She knew admitting would only hurt herself. Ymir was damaged enough, she didn't need to be foolish and go headfirst into a storm of agony.

Ilse smirked. "I see, you are not going to say anything, are you?"

Ymir's gaze flicked to the ground for a moment and then she met her friend's eyes once more. Whatever she did, Ilse was already expecting. Because no matter how she replied or reacted, they both knew the truth. "Not yet," The brunette breathed honestly. Gripping the front door's handle, her hand shook for a moment until Ymir gained enough control to steady it. A small warm ache suddenly pulsed throughout her body. As the brunette stepped out, she heard Ilse call out a goodbye.

From outside, a soft breeze blew and the freckled woman could feel a subtle chill in her bones. The amber glow of the evening delving into the deep iliac night was enough of a sight to ease Ymir's whirlwind of emotions. The brunette rolled her shoulders, feeling the soreness from the exercise Mikasa had been making her do. Since that day, she made trips to the Yaeger's house early every morning. After the workout routine with Mikasa, she went to work for Marcel and then she went home. Today, she hadn't needed to make any runs for Marcel, instead, she decided to use that time to spend with Ilse.

Ymir shoved her hands in her pockets, making her way to the restaurant on foot. The street lamps, towering above, started to switch to life as darkness approached. The sound of passing cars and her shoes scuffing the pavement was all she heard as she journeyed forward.

She concentrated on her breathing as she fought off dark thoughts that threatened to swarm. She tried to stay centered on more casual thoughts. The start to bettering herself and putting her life back together was going slowly. She knew it would. The way Mikasa had described her body getting used to the exercise was exactly the way her life would go from now on. Until she could stand proudly on two feet, it would be hard. _It hurts at first but the more you do it, the easier it gets._ How long would it be until Marcel fulfilled his promise to her? The words he told her that night. He promised her what she thought would be impossible. Something that never crossed her mind. Ymir figured losing the battle was the end to everything. All her effort and work in being able to provide for _her_ was nothing compared to _him_. She lost for a reason. She lost her daughter for a reason. Ymir wasn't _good_ enough.

Shaking her head as she realized her thinking was getting too dark, Ymir glimpsed at the starry sky. The depression that seemed imprinted on her soul was mixed in with a lost feeling she didn't think she would ever feel again. A warm feeling. A sensation that made her skin prickle and her heart beat a little faster. She just started acknowledging this feeling but she refused to name it. _Not yet._ Giving the name to this certain emotion would be too hopeful. She refused to get hurt. For now, she'll wait. The brunette would wait for the signal that would come from the blonde goddess she met only a couple of days ago. The signal that would allow her to act out.

In all the people she ever had an interest, specifically women, there was always a pang of hunger that started to form. A hunger that clawed on her insides and roared for satisfaction. This hunger was dealt with by the end of the day by one simple thing. The cure to the feeling was what every young lustful adult tended to do with others on alcohol infested nights. A simple battle of tongues and climaxing was all that needed to satisfy the gouging feeling. When Ymir met Historia, the feeling didn't form. The day they went out, the hunger was still absent. Now, her desire was something else completely. Instead of having the urge to feel her everywhere physically, Ymir was simply pleased by the sight of her. Their time together was enough. Even if she was satisfied though, she couldn't help but feel bizarre about it. The difference in her attraction was unusual. Maybe, after so long, she unconsciously realized that there was more to a relationship than sexual pleasure.

Her gold eyes drifted and she paused for a moment to look around. She was nearing the restaurant now and she couldn't help but look if Historia was nearby. When she didn't catch a glimpse of anyone familiar, the brunette directed herself towards the restaurant again. The distance to her destination was merely a few minutes away. Her pace increased slightly and she absentmindedly straightened herself to look more confident.

Just as her walk started to draw to an end, a familiar voice called out from behind her.

"Y-Ymir…!"

"Historia?" Ymir's eyes squinted for a moment to see her figure coming from the distance. Taking in the sight of the blonde, Ymir noticed the way she was limping towards her. The freckled woman's eyes widened and in a few quick steps, she reached the woman with little effort. On closer inspection, Ymir furrowed her eyebrows as she noticed the bandaid that rested across her cheek. "A-Are...are you okay? What happened?"

The short blonde stiffened for a second and then she relaxed. Ymir didn't miss the flash of panic that temporarily lit her features. Offering a smile, the girl answered. "It was an accident, wasn't quite that careful when I tried putting on a new lightbulb for the living room's light. I took a heavy fall, my cheek managed to hit the side of the coffee table."

Ymir knew from how fast she spewed those words and the smile that the woman had, it wasn't the truth. The way Historia spoke came across like she was trying to convince herself that was what happened. She was lying. The fact unconsciously made the brunette's fingers curve into a fist. Ymir's frown deepened and she opened her mouth to confront the blonde. To tell her that she knew that wasn't true. To tell her that she knew how it felt to lie to yourself. She knew very well and she hated seeing Historia do a similar thing. She loathed herself when she made mistakes and her heart wanted to break when she saw Historia do the same. Ymir readied herself to confront the beauty but instead, her feelings couldn't help but falter. Looking at her ocean eyes, Ymir could see the plea that broke through the surface. Historia was practically begging the brunette to not push on the subject. Suddenly she appeared fragile. As if Ymir said something, if she said _anything_ , the blonde would crumble. The brunette hesitated and looked away for a moment. _Dammit._ She growled internally. The vulnerability of the woman was keeping Ymir from acting out.

Her gold eyes shifted back to meet those deep pools of blue. The relief that started to spread in Historia's eyes made Ymir take a deep breath. Ymir's heart throbbed at the heat that washed over her body. The corner of her lips curved, and swallowing down any pessimistic emotions, Ymir gestured towards the restaurant. "We should get going. Don't want to keep your friend waiting."

…

Historia was terrified. She knew the consequences that awaited her in the near future. The pain she would soon face. Once she returned, there was going to be fury and fists being thrown. He will be angry. _Angry._ He's always angry with her. No. Porco will be a furious raging storm of hatred and frustration. It will only be red in his vision. The mere thought brought a phantom of his voice ringing through her head and beating the blonde to the ground.

She crept out when he was passed out on the couch. When he wasn't paying attention, she slipped in some sleeping medicine. It wouldn't keep asleep for long. By the time she came back, he will wake up. Once he realizes his wife isn't present, Porco will flip. She just hopes he won't go searching. Historia risked herself for this night and glancing at Ymir, she wondered if Porco appeared, how the brunette would react. The brunette doesn't know about her husband. Ymir doesn't know about the person she vowed to stay with the rest of her life. If she knew, would Historia lose the freckled woman? Would she lose _this?_

Historia's breath hitched for a moment. _This._ What was _this_? Their relationship. The blonde wanted the brunette for more than an escape. Historia knew that much. She wanted more than a ticket out. Her intention of using the woman was also met with an interest that flames from the inside of her. Historia was drawn towards Ymir. An urge that endlessly ached when she was near the brunette. She _had_ to know everything about Ymir. There was a story behind those exhausted gold eyes. There was a life that pulsed beneath the cold skin of her that managed to reach her smile and leak out into the open air. Ymir was _someone_. Someone she had to know. And that's why Historia didn't want to tell her about Porco. The fact of him would most likely chase her off. It would ruin everything and they were only at the beginning of whatever laid between them. Whatever this was. Historia knew Ymir felt it too. They couldn't be friends. They couldn't be friends because that wouldn't be right. The energy that coursed through their bodies from the moment they touched was enough to know that they weren't meant to be friends. But if they couldn't be friends...what were they supposed to be? Because they were supposed to be something. And that something was only one obvious choice. A choice that carries the emotion that rules humanity. A choice that lays within many people. Waiting to be decided by the two individuals that hesitate because of the butterflies that swarmed in their stomachs and the warmth that ruled their hearts. The thought sent a shiver of emotion go down her spine and she closed her eyes. Historia was afraid to even admit it. The idea of it made her bruises pulse and her knees even weaker than before. It's not possible. Historia would not be able to do that to Ymir. It was a ridiculous thought. A foolish one that had to be forced away. But even if that was the decision to force down any feelings, when the brunette opened the restaurant door for her and she walked through, she felt a warmth pool in her chest and make her heart want to erupt. If only. If only things were different then maybe. Maybe _this_ could be _that_. Historia just couldn't do it. She would hate to hurt Ymir like that. It would be cruel.

 _Cruel._ The world was a cruel place. And despite the merciless world they lived in, there were moments that made it worth living in the brutality of an unfair life. Seeing Sasha light up at the sight of her and Ymir trying to peel the pregnant brunette off the blonde in a sense of protectiveness was one of those moments that made her forget about the beast that awaited at home. Historia could forget for at least one heartbeat that by the end of this night, a cruel fate would wait patiently at the place she called home.


	12. Chapter 12

_**In this AU, it's canon that Sasha and her husband usually sing these songs on Karaoke Night: Need You Now by Lady Antebellum, Picture by Kid Rock ft Sheryl Crow, Shallow by Lady Gaga ft Bradley Cooper and Home Alone Tonight by Luke Bryan ft Karen Fairchild. :^)**_

...

Sasha leads Historia and Ymir to the restaurant's minibar. There, two men sat next to each other, one laughing at the other's joke. As the pregnant woman approached, a blond man with a slim build perked at the sight of her and stood up from his seat.

"Historia, Ymir, this is my husband Nicolo, the owner of our restaurant," Sasha introduced the three of them with a grin.

Nicolo places a hand out of the two women to shake and he dips his head slightly. "It is a pleasure to meet you both." The smile on his handsome face makes him appear extremely charming and Historia can't help but feel happy for Sasha. She was lucky to have someone as handsome as him and judging by his relaxed posture, he looked to be pretty friendly.

"Same to you," Historia replied, her lips curving into a smile of her own. "You must be excited to be a father."

"Oh, I am-"

"Historia!" A voice interrupted from behind the restaurant owner and the source of the voice pushes him aside. "You remember me? It's Connie!"

The blonde took a step back at the man's excitable personality but she nodded in answer to his question. "Connie, it's been so long. You have gotten taller!"

Connie was Sasha's best friend and Historia remembered a time when she couldn't recall a moment when they weren't together. The way they behaved with each other almost seemed like they were siblings. The two of them always managed to get in trouble when times were freer. The last Historia had seen Connie was around the same time Porco had found out about her lack of wealth. The man grinned at her comment and puffed out his chest. "I couldn't believe it when Sasha told me she saw you but now I can. You haven't changed that much, aside from that band-aid you got on your face."

At the mention of the item, Historia unconsciously traced the bandage on her face. She paused for a moment before she replied to Connie. "Well, it is good to see you again."

"As much I love this heart-warming experience, I would appreciate a drink, please," Ymir cut in, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, of course," Nicolo jumped and started to move. "The two of you take a seat and I'll get you what you need."

They obeyed, with Historia taking a seat by Connie as he offered. Ymir took a seat on the other side of Historia and Sasha took the one that was previously her husband's. Historia took a minute to look around the restaurant as they waited for Nicolo to get their drinks, who was now on the other side of the mini bar's counter. The restaurant wasn't crowded but there was indeed a fair amount of people present for Karaoke night. The room was filled with the noise of mixed chatter and there was a warm sensation that hung in the air. Everyone was happy and enjoying their time. Those who lingered by the small stage which was a small distance away from the minibar looked eager to get up there and sing. A man who appeared to be a technician was placed by the stage with a setup. He seemed to be tinkering with the machine to check if everything will work out okay. At one point, he even tapped the microphone to make sure both it and the speakers were working.

"Hey, Historia, did ya' know that soldier boy here went back to college?" Sasha drew her attention as she leaned on Connie to look at the blonde.

"You did?"

The man with short hair nodded. "After leaving the military, I decided to give college a second shot."

Historia had known Connie when he was recent drop out in college and decided to go into the military. She assumed the boy had recently left the military considering his straight posture and disciplined look that was only betrayed by the smile on his face. The blonde couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if she had a chance to go to college. Things would have certainly been different. "So, what are you pursuing this time?"

"I actually wanna be an Airline pilot or at least a Copilot. Thanks to the military, I started to love traveling, particularly the feeling on a plane. Flying people from place to place actually sounds appealing and seems like a pretty solid job in my opinion."

"Connie the pilot," Sasha chirped, with a contemplative look. She bit her lip then concluded, "Sounds stupid."

"Says the girl who married a professional chef and only works as a waitress."

"Hey! Y'know damn sure that I am only working as a waitress because Nicolo is too paranoid about me hurtin' the baby in the kitchen." Connie opened his mouth to throw out another insult, but Sasha was quick to stop him with a bark. "And no, for the 1000th time, I did not marry him because he makes good food! He also has a charming personality, extremely attractive body _and_ he cooks really delicious food!"

"Aw thanks, babe," Nicolo hummed as he appeared and set down a non-alcoholic beverage for Sasha, a bottle for Ymir and Connie, and a small glass of red wine for Historia. The blonde man must have judged their preferences by appearances. Historia wasn't a drinker and she must have looked like one too. Ymir and Connie had gotten more casual drinks for people who drink often but not _too_ often. Or at least not as much as Porco. Sasha, of course, didn't get anything related to alcohol due to her pregnancy and maybe a little because of Nicolo's protective nature.

"You're welcome, dear," Sasha replied as she took a sip of what appeared to be flavored sparkling water. Nicolo leaned across the counter to plant a quick kiss on the brunette's temple and the woman grinned in response.

As that went on, Connie turned around to make a gaging gesture at the sign of gesture. Historia chuckled at the man's antics and couldn't help but say. "Aw, come on, surely there is someone you love as much as that."

"Uh," The man scratched his head and shook his head. "Nope. There's no one I can think of."

Sasha rolled her eyes and chimed in. "Listen, I've been trying to get him a gal for a while now, none of the dates ever seem to go well."

"Are you that bad?" Historia playfully said, her lips parting to take a small drink of wine.

"It's not that I am bad. I am just not _interested_ ," Connie shrugged and took a swig from his bottle. "I don't know...maybe there is something wrong with me? Surely a guy around my age should be chasing every girl he meets?"

"Don't worry," Historia comforted, feeling a bit sorry for him. "There is someone out there for you and when the time comes, you will find them."

"You really think so?" Connie asked honestly.

"I know so," Historia swallowed dryly and paused for a moment. Was Porco her _someone_? She couldn't help but think about it. She used to think so. Back when they were both happier, she loved him more than anything and she wants to believe he felt the same. Now, it was hard to say she even cared for him. Historia just listened to her husband because she was his wife and she knew better than to disobey him. At least she used to know better. Sneaking out these past few times was an obvious sign of disobedience. She was scared of him and yet she did it. Especially this night. She was terrified to go back to her home of alcohol and bruises. But even so, she took the risk that would lead up to the consequences. The blonde shook her head before the thoughts could fester. She needed to enjoy what was going on now. She couldn't afford to ruin these moments with negative thoughts.

Connie suddenly jerked his head to the other side of Historia. "Hey, what's up with her? She hasn't said a single word since we all sat down." The moment he said that Sasha yelped something to him and drew his attention towards her.

Once her two old friends were occupied with a conversation, Historia turned over to Ymir, who was nursing her bottle of beer while her gold eyes drifted around the restaurant. She watched the other customers as they enjoyed their time as they patiently waited for the night to begin. Her back pressed onto the counter as she leaned back, one arm was stretched out on the clean surface and her fingers tapped the marble in rhythm as her eyebrows knitted into concentration.

The blond leaned over, careful not to fall off the stool she sat on. A hand reached over to place itself on the brunette's shoulder for support but she hesitated and chose to grab the counter instead. Her head was in the space of Ymir and Historia could slightly feel her breath on her cheek. Historia tilted her head slightly to look at the freckled woman. "What are we looking at?"

Ymir stared at HIstoria for a moment. Her expression was a little surprised. The expression was quick to diminish and the brunette relaxed. The corner of her lips curved slightly and she pointed a finger towards the stage as she took another drink from her bottle of beer. "Those two love birds over there." Historia's gaze carried itself towards where the brunette's slim finger was pointing. As the finger withdrew to prevent from being noticed, the blonde found herself staring at a chatty woman and a reluctant man as he was dragged by the arm. The woman with light brown wavy hair was gesturing towards the technician as she guided the man with a bowl cut. She seemed eager to sing and she obviously wanted the black-haired man to sing with her too. Her amber eyes were practically begging him as she talked to the technician for a short moment. The taller man stared at the girl with an unwilling frown but a spark of affection lingered in his eyes.

"Do you think they are any good at singing?" Historia asked softly. Her blue orbs drifting back to the strong gaze of Ymir. A strange sensation flooded over Historia as she felt Ymir stare into her eyes, a feeling of scared excitement bubbling from beneath her skin that rivaled against the strange sensation.

The brunette stuck out her chin and gave a small smirk. "What are you implying, Historia?"

She couldn't help but smile back. The hint of amusement laced in her words was enough to encourage Historia. The shorter woman out of the two feigned an innocent look and batted her eyelashes. "I have no idea what you mean."

"Sure," Ymir snorted, her smirk not leaving. The brunette positioned her head in a way where she was closer to Historia's ear and spoke. "There is no way you are getting me to sing."

A shudder ran down the blonde's spine as she felt the woman's breath on the shell of her ear. Her skin prickled and Historia had to take a moment to recollect her thoughts as she froze for a moment.

"Why haven't you joined in on our conversation?" Historia switched the subject, her tone quiet and genuine. She had to distract her mind from the feeling that started to bloom into her chest. The feeling that sprouted from the moment their hand first touched.

"I wanted to give you some time with your friends," Ymir replied, turning her head away and gazing back out to the open. When her gold eyes were peeled away from the blonde, Historia couldn't help but feel a sudden detachment of warmth. She liked it when that strong gaze was focused on her. It gave Historia a sense of….protection. Something about those tired eyes comforted her.

She wanted her attention back. It was a feeling that Historia wanted back. She craned her neck to try and catch Ymir's gaze. "But we're friends too," Her heartbeat skipped for a moment as those words left her own soft lips. Historia's breath hitched and she suddenly wished she could take it back. Somewhere deep inside her gave a call of desperation and pleading.

Ymir turned her head back towards the blond and unconsciously Historia leaned in. Their noses were almost touching. The brunette stayed silent for a long moment and Historia could practically feel her heart wanting to burst at the sudden electricity that coursed through her veins. She wanted Ymir to reply. She wanted her to say something. Anything. Those tired gold eyes were burning into her soul and making her express another level of vulnerability she had never done before. She was feeling herself come undone.

" _We're friends_ ," Ymir echoed and Historia could catch the scent of her as the brunette's breath touched the blonde's lips. A sad-happy expression flooded the freckled woman's features. Her eyes slowly started to grow distant.

Historia moved. Suddenly she could only breathe in the brunette's scent. She smelled of cigarettes and regret. She could almost taste the misery that ached from within her. This woman was in pain. Historia wondered if she assisted in worsening her state of desolation.

The blond's hand that rested on the counter drifted onto Ymir's shoulder and she moved her lips to go to Ymir's ear. New energy rushed into her body and electrified her. Her blood was fizzing in a familiar thrill that she had once felt with Porco all those years ago. But even if her body reacted this way, her chest and mind wanted to save this brunette. Historia wanted to reach out from her own darkness and go into the storm Ymir rested in. She wanted to touch her. She wanted to grip her hands and tell her that she wasn't alone. That the blonde was also suffering. Suffering from a man who was driven by alcohol and anger. She wore scars of her own which would haunt her for the rest of her meaningless life.

So, in desperation, Historia wanted to whisper _something_ in Ymir's ear. _Anything_. She wanted to say something. Just something.

But she didn't know what to say through the whirlwind of emotions she was experiencing. There was nothing that popped out.

Historia faltered.

She let a sigh caress the brunette's ear.

The blonde pulled away.

Not meeting Ymir's eyes.

This wasn't right.

None of this.

"Hey, you two!" Sasha's voice sliced through Historia's thoughts and the two, at the same time, looked up at her with a slight surprise. The sudden realization of the fact that what Historia had done in public, caused her cheeks to redden and she wondered if anyone actually noticed the experience she shared with Ymir. "I need help!"

Ymir finished off her bottle of beer and rose an eyebrow in question at the pregnant brunette. "With what?"

"Do either of ya know how to play the guitar?!"

Historia shook her head, silently. She was still trying to fight off the heat on her cheeks. Her stomach was tied up in knots and her chest was swarming with a mixture of despair and want.

"I know how to," Ymir offered, not even bothering to pay attention to Historia. A different demeanor had fallen upon the brunette and there was a certain seriousness in her features. "It's been a while since I last played though."

"That's alright," Sasha moved forward to grab Ymir's wrist. "I need ya for Karaoke night. Our guitarist called in last minute, somethin' came up. You just have to play a couple of songs, it won't be that tough."

Ymir's eyes narrowed and she pressed her lips together. "Okay….what's in for me?"

Sasha groaned in frustration. "Y'know I should've expected this from you. You seem like the exact gal who only does things that offer somethin' for your own benefit."

"Hey," Ymir growled. "You either pay or you don't get me at all."

Historia cast a glance over at the brunette. Even though she looked a little serious and intimidating, the blonde could see the wisp of sadness in her gold eyes. She hadn't really seen this side of Ymir before but she knew from within her that the brunette probably didn't mean to sound so harsh. She was just trying to take advantage of a situation. She was trying not to waste time if she wasn't getting paid. It was probably a lesson she learned long ago that stuck with her. Historia's hands clenched and she looked away.

"Fine, fine!" Sasha rose her hands in defeat. "I will get my husband to pay ya'. But if you aren't even a lick of talented then there is no way you'll get anything in return. Deal?"

"Deal," Ymir smirked and got up from her stool. "I promise you won't be disappointed, cowgirl."

"Don't call me that," Sasha said, leading the brunette towards the stage.

"Whatever," Ymir snorted. As they started to walk away, the brunette sent a look of amusement at Historia. Historia gave a small chuckle in reply then waved her off.

As the distance grew between them, Historia turned around and rested her elbows on the counter. From the glitter in Ymir's eyes, there was a silent command of just pretending that whatever happened between them would be better off ignored. Historia wondered if Ymir was doing this for her own sake or for Historia's. She didn't question it. Things would definitely be better off like this. Fluttering feelings had no reason to stay anymore. At least Historia wanted to believe that. She wasn't sure. She was confused.

"You're really going to enjoy this," A voice brought Historia to the surface. The blonde turned to see Nicolo, who took Connie's place beside her as the boy went off to go talk to other customers. "Everyone does."

"I'll take your word for it," Historia shifted her body to face the owner of the restaurant.

"Are you okay?"

"What do you mean?" Historia decided to play dumb.

Nicolo rose an eyebrow. "All I know is that you and your friend were talking and then you guys both ended up looking really….sad? I actually don't know if sad is the right word…"

"Oh," Historia flushed. "You saw that."

"Don't worry," Nicolo placed a hand on the woman's shoulder and offered a kind smile. "I was the only one who noticed."

Historia gave him a look of thanks. "I….I honestly don't know what really happened either."

Nicolo hummed thoughtfully. "Well whatever that was, it looked pretty intense."

Historia didn't reply and thought back to the moment that only happened a few minutes ago. The energy that had flowed through her. The sensation of Ymir's breath. Her scent. The fact that their lips weren't that far apart. _Yeah…..intense._

"Do you plan on singing tonight?"

"I...I don't know. Will you?"

"Of course," Nicolo gave a small chuckle. "My wife loves doing duets together."

Historia looked at him and smiled. "You two really love each other."

Nicolo nodded and breathed dreamily. "She's my one and only."

 _One and only._

That wasn't Porco. No matter what Historia told herself. It wasn't Porco. Porco wasn't her one and only. But if he wasn't... then who was?

Her pulse skyrocketed at a sudden thought and she felt herself choke. She kept her gaze glued on Nicolo. Because she suddenly knew. She knew if she let her gaze drift, her heart would break. The feelings made more sense. But she had to refuse them. It was the only choice. If she let them out, they would end up hurting both of them.

"Maybe you should get your friend to sing a duet with you," He suggested. "That would probably fix the little conflict you have going on."

"I don't think she was planning on singing tonight."

"She wasn't exactly planning on being the guitarist for tonight either," Nicolo pointed out. "She's already up there, you should take advantage of that."

…

She felt less nervous on stage compared to being beside Historia. She was more nervous with her than she was being up on the stage. Thankfully, strumming the guitar eased a few Ymir's conflicts with her own feelings. When Historia leaned towards her, she wasn't exactly expecting _that_. But she wasn't necessarily expecting anything. She never expects anything when she is around Historia. Ymir simply enjoys being around her. For a moment, Ymir can't help but feel a little melancholy. It was an interesting experience that elicited all sorts of things from the freckled woman. It was _intense_. An intensity that only faltered when Historia uttered the word "friend". It wasn't that she didn't want to be her friend. On the contrary to be exact. What she didn't want though, was to be _just_ friends. The mere idea made Ymir recall the feeling of Historia's breath tickling her skin and her scent wrapping around the brunette. Ymir shudders at the thought and the guitar Sasha gave her, slips from her hands of a moment.

"Careful," Sasha yipped as she turned back around after helping the technician set up a laptop that faced towards the taller brunette. "That's the only guitar we have."

Ymir jerked her head. "Yeah, yeah," She grumbled and let her gaze drift over to Historia. The blond was talking with Nicolo, who was flashing a charming smile at her. Ymir's grip tightened for a moment and she let her fingers play with the strings to warm up her musical memory. The brunette was relieved that Historia had gotten the message from her when she looked at her before she left with Sasha. She just wanted for them to pretend that whatever happened didn't happen in the first place. Not forget the moment. Just pretend that it had never occurred. Ymir wasn't exactly willing to talk about it at the currently. She had felt the same energy from the first time they met when Historia leaned in. An electric current had rushed through her body the moment Historia made contact with Ymir. It was a pleasing sensation. But even so, Ymir felt confused about it. The freckled brunette had been thinking earlier about waiting for _something_ to happen between them. Was this the _something_? She wanted to believe that it wasn't. Especially since she just established that their little interaction should just go unspoken.

"You ready?" Sasha dragged Ymir's attention away from the blond goddess. The pregnant brunette followed her gaze and gave a smirk. "No need to be worried, she'll forgive you if you make a fool of yourself."

"What?" Ymir had to hold back a retort. She didn't know what it was but Sasha sort of rubbed her the wrong way. She didn't dislike the other brunette but she didn't exactly like her either. At least not yet. "I wasn't even thinking about that, cowgirl."

Sasha frowned at the nickname. "Again, please don't call me that."

"Cowgirl," Ymir replied instead with a smug smile.

"I'm fixin' to shove a boot up yer arse if you don't quit it."

Ymir cackled and mimicked Sasha's southern accent. "Easy there, cowgirl. You're getting madder than a wet hen."

"Are you sure you're Historia's friend?" Sasha asked genuinely. "If it's true then bless her heart. You must be a handful."

Ymir rolled her eyes. Shifting her tone, she gave Sasha a serious stare. "We haven't known each other for that long," The brunette informed. It was true. And yet…..there were these feelings.

Sasha's mouth formed into an 'o' then shrugged. "My apologies for assumin'. Now that I think about it, y'all haven't really even spoken to each other." She rubbed her chin for a moment then perked. "Ah, I see!"

"What?"

"Nope," Sasha popped the 'p' in the word and gave a grin. "Not gonna tell ya."

Ymir growled and shifted the guitar in her grasp. "Whatever. So, are we going to start or not?"

Sasha nodded. She pointed to the laptop and explained that would show her the chords to play along with the lyrics to each song the participants picked. The brunette also explained after every 4 songs, they would take a five-minute break then continue. This process would be repeated three times in total. She also claimed that her husband and herself would start up the night with a duet just so no one else would get the "jitters" due to being the first one up.

"Okay, so what is the first song?"

Sasha gave a small squeal of excitement and told her.

Ymir gave an unamused frown in reply. "Ugh, seriously? That song is so fucking overplayed."

…

Historia had to blink once and then twice. The question of wonder she had asked Ymir about "the lovebirds" had finally been answered. Their names were Hitch and Marlowe. And there was only one thing to say about their singing. _They were_ _ **good**_. Extremely good. So good, in fact, Historia was a little intimidated by them and was now a little hesitant to go through with Nicolo's idea. She thought about it for a good second but his encouraging smile was enough for her to push through.

"Next up, Historia!" Sasha called into the microphone which was quickly followed by enthusiastic clapping. Ymir was the only one who seemed about to freak out when she heard the blond's name. The way her gold eyes widened was almost comical in Historia's opinion.

So, when Historia got up onto the stage, she moved a step to mutter something to the technician then turned to the brunette. Ymir looked at her with an almost defensive nature and gave a warning glare. The blond offered a smile in return and reached out a hand to rest it on top of Ymir's. The contact sent a spike of electricity to flow through her body and it gave Historia the confidence she needed. This was for them. Just so they could ease the sudden awkwardness between them. At least, that is what she wanted to tell herself.

"No," Ymir stated firmly before the woman could even part her lips. "I won't do it."

"It will be fun," Historia offered, her tone soft.

"Bu-"

Historia squeezed Ymir's hand. "Please?" She didn't want to argue with Ymir. She didn't even want to bicker. And to be honest, if Ymir didn't give in and still denied her, Historia was willing to stop and sing by herself.

The brunette's lips curved in indecision. Her gold eyes sparkling in a small conflict that immediately died away as Historia let go of her hand. Ymir sighed. "Okay, fine. Just….Just make sure it is a decent song."

Historia grinned. Ymir smiled.

When the technician got the song ready, Historia was prepared. The first chords flickered on the screen and Ymir immediately started to play. Historia made her way to the microphone and at her much more broad appearance, she heard a few catcalls from men in the audience. She paid them no mind and took a deep breath. _Ok. Let's do this._

Historia can't remember the last time she sang a song. Once upon a time ago, she used to sing aloud to every hit song on the radio when they played. She remembered how Porco would laugh in embarrassment and sing along after enough encouragement from Historia. The blonde recalled when she used to be cheered on by random crowds every time they went to a bar together or a group gathering. She could almost phantom the feeling of her throat being raw and sore as she shouted out lyrics to the night sky. Porco hugging her tight and howling along with her. That was a time of freedom. It was a time when she only felt happy. Things were more simple then. And now...well…

The moment the first verse came, her voice was hardly audible. Despite the microphone almost glazing over her lips. But after the first verse was over, determination flowed over her and her voice grew in volume.

" _I had wandered the walls forever_

 _But came upon a way for my return_

 _Heard your name in a conversation_

 _Your kindness I'd yet to learn_

 _Life has been like an endless nightmare_

 _And now your light it leads me home again_

 _Is it fate to be smashed to pieces?_

 _If you go we go together"_

The words rolled off her tongue and out into the world so naturally that she almost seemed as if she was made for this song. She closed her eyes and focused on the music and the meaning of the lyrics. She conveyed her unspoken emotion through the song. She made sure to give meaning to the words and express them. And by the time the chorus came, Historia lost herself in the music. She drowned herself so deep that the loud applause of the crowd was only a dull crash of an ocean surrounding an isolated island. She slipped into the sound and forgot everything that haunted her. Her voice cracked for a moment but she carried on. When the chorus ended, she opened her eyes and stared out into the crowd. They stared back with enthusiasm, eager to hear her again. And then….she heard Ymir sing.

" _ **Close my eyes and I see the fallen**_

 _ **They threw the stones to make us go away**_

 _ **It was only the face of anger and kindness**_

 _ **It lit my way**_

 _ **Ain't no picnic to be abandoned**_

 _ **It led us here. We had to share the pain**_

 _ **Is it fate to be smashed to pieces?**_

 _ **If you go we go together**_ "

The brunette held a lopsided grin. She wasn't amazing at singing but she was decent. It was enough for Historia and she followed after her. The blonde sang the verse and then they joined together. And Historia loved the way they harmonized together. It felt right. It made her chest bloom in warmth. The minute they reached the bridge together, a mighty presence filled the room and their voices dominated the area. The mob went crazy for the two. Their voices sang over them.

" _You're bigger_

 _Bigger!_

 _Why do you ride?_

 _I will shiver_

 _Shiver!_

 _Into the fire!_

 _You just get out alive!_

 _We'll let our worlds collide_

 _We are bigger!_ "

Ymir stood up from her seat and went to Historia. Her finger worked rapidly on the guitar as she stayed with the lyrics. The brunette's eyes swelled with emotion. Her smile was broad. Their voices carried each other. They stared deeply into each other's gazes and suddenly Historia couldn't tear her eyes away. The brunette circled her eagerly. Her hands playing more wildly as her passion bled through. The audience sang along with them.

" _You're bigger_

 _Bigger!_

 _Why do you hide?_

 _I will shiver_

 _Shiver!_

 _It's suicide!_

 _But if there's no desire_

 _To get back out alive_

 _You're a zero!_ "

And then suddenly, something pools out of them as they end the song. An emotion so powerful that both their knees go weak. But their eye contact is strong and steady and Ymir stops pacing around Historia. The brunette towers over Historia. Playing the chords with confidence. Their voices soften as they near the end.

" _Make a promise that I cannot regret_

 _As long as I can see you but in secret_

 _I'll never_

 _I'll never forget my feelings, no_

 _I'll never_

 _I'll never_

 _Learn how to let you go._ "

Ymir stops playing. Historia lets out a breath.

A roar from the customers fills the room and it is so loud that the pictures on the wall shake. Hitch and Marlowe look surprised but happy and not disappointed by their obvious loss. Sasha is grinning with her arms wrapped around Connie and Nicolo. The two men are laughing. Nicolo looks especially impressed. But none of that matters.

The blonde only sees and hears the brunette. The brunette only sees and hears the blonde.

Historia' heart is thumping in exhilaration. Her pulse is going crazy. A feeling of warmth and affection are engulfing her chest. She is staring deeply into those gold eyes. She wants to lean into the freckled woman and get lost in her. There is an overwhelming power flowing through her and she feels her eyes water. She wants to cry. She wants to laugh. She wants to scream and tear her hair out. She wants….she wants Ymir.

"You can sing," Ymir rasps almost dumbly. It's cute in Historia's opinion. Both of their chests are heaving as they try to catch their breath.

"You're not that bad yourself," Historia says.

They stand there, staring. The crowd is celebrating. Their calls echoing off the walls of the restaurant and getting thrown into the night.

Historia is shaking. She feels so vulnerable right now and it is taking every bit of her strength to hold back tears due to the overpowering storm of emotions.

"You're beautiful."

Those words were breathless.

Ymir is staring at her with an obvious glow of love. Her eyes were filled with a sadness that only she would know. The brunette's smile is broken and desperate. Her body quivered while staring at a blonde she hardly knew.

Historia breaks. Because even though she loved the words, she felt a feeling of frustration flood over her.

She takes one step back and speaks in a tone that was soft yet so angry. It leaves Ymir perplexed. "I have to go."

The short woman turns to leave.

Ymir doesn't want her to go. She doesn't even understand why she is suddenly fleeing.

Historia is leaving because the world is unfair. She is going because she wants Ymir to fall for her but she doesn't want her to get hurt. They can't do this. And Historia is furious. Because it's her fault for doing this in the first place and now they made it this far. This was so unexpected yet her body yells at her and tells her that it was necessary. She doesn't want to believe that. She only concluded one thing out of this. Life was fucking with her. She's only known beatings and aggressive stupidity for the past few years that she denied accepting this. She refused to welcome her even though she wanted to. _Ymir, I'm sorry._

"Wait," The spark of desperation streams into the brunette's voice. She reached forward and clutches Historia's wrist. "Will you be here next week?"

Historia inhales deeply at the touch and pulls away. Giving one last look at the sad broken stranger, the blonde delivers the tiniest of smiles. "Goodbye, Ymir."

When Ymir comes back to the restaurant a week later, Historia is nowhere to be seen.


	13. Chapter 13

Ymir doesn't hate Historia

Even if she tried.

She hardly had any energy to make an effort to even be angry.

Her gold eyes briefly mee Sasha's concerned gaze as the brunette scanned the restaurant for the blonde. She wasn't there. There was no trace of her. It was enough to make the woman turn back around and walk out. Sasha made no effort to stop her. Three weeks had passed. Ever since that night, Ymir appeared every Thursday in hope for a stranger's arrival. She never did. The freckled brunette would leave as soon as the realization dawned on her. This time, she had only spent a short minute in the restaurant before going. She wasn't going to waste her time once more.

In a few fluid movements, Ymir went into her beat-up car and started it up. This was the first time she ever drove it to the restaurant. When she walked out of her apartment she shared with Ilse, Ymir's doubts were strong enough to make the trip go easier. She brought her car to not waste time. She had no will to walk to and soon away from a place that she no longer had a desire to go to.

Her grip tightened on the steering wheel as she started the drive home and she clenched her jaw.

The night sky was cloudy and the moonlight was weak as it shined upon the front door of her home. Ymir stood there for a moment, locking her car and staring emotionlessly. Her hands moved to her pockets and she fished out a cigarette packet. Turning around, she stepped aside from the door and moved a bit forward to gaze out to the sky.

The quick sharp sound of flicking her lighter echoed for a moment. Lighting up her cigarette, she shifted its position between her fingers then inhaled. The smoke hugged her lungs with warmth and she closed her eyes. A buzz fell over her for a few seconds. A stream of smoke slipped out from her lips. Her eyelids fluttered open and her cheeks started to dampen. A slight whimpering spilled along with the grey wisp that left her lungs. Her vision grew blurry and she felt herself weaken. Another soft sob broke out and the freckled woman immediately crouched down. Balancing on the balls of her feet, her knees pressed against her chest and she used her free arm to wipe at the burning sensation that rested in her eyes. Small dark circles formed on the concrete beneath as tears started to pour. Her shoulders tensed up as she crouched in a hunched position. Another small pathetic whimper escaped from her lips and her fingers curled into a fist. The cigarette that rested between her slim digits, crumbled and the heated side burned her skin. Hissing, in reflex, the brunette stood up and let go of the nicotine-filled stick. Her throat tightened. Her heart clenched in her chest. Each throb a familiar pain. She was feeling so much and yet so little. The emotions were present but subtle. She didn't want to feel this way. She had been pushing these feelings away but the effort was too much. She wanted to give in. Give up.

Ymir has been hurting for so long. It was only recently that she started to finally believe that things would get better. Her much more healthy routine had been making her feel a little better. Historia was able to make her forget about every bad thing in her life. But then….well it happened. She was gone. Ymir felt guilty about it too. She can only think that if she had never let her emotions let loose on the night they sang their hearts out...then maybe she would have stayed.

The brunette growled at the thought. Should she be surprised? She just ruined another good thing in her fucked-up life. Her tears drying, she smothered out the cigarette and made her way into the apartment.

This is why she tried so hard to push the feelings away. She had desperately wanted to shove them down. Because the freckled woman knew deep down that in the end, she would conclude that this was her own fault. Not Historia's. It was Ymir's. She thought that at that moment, it was time to act out. She had believed so passionately that this was the something she was waiting for. To change their odd relationship. She must have been wrong. She _was_ wrong. Acting out on her emotions wasn't the smartest choice. Why?

Because Historia left.

…

"You look pissed," Mikasa commented as she stretched her muscles in preparation for their upcoming workout. Her expression seemed emotionless and unbothered but there was a small glint in her grey eyes that showed interest and concern.

Ymir circled her shoulders. Not sparing a look at the woman. Her lips were cemented into a broad frown and her usually tired eyes were darker than usual. "I'm always pissed," Ymir retorted, not sparing a look at Eren's wife.

Mikasa hummed in reply and decided not to say anything. After a few moments, the silence suddenly becoming unbearable, Ymir gave a snort and turned to the black-haired woman. "Can we change things up today? I would rather punch something than lifting something."

Mikasa perked an eyebrow at the brunette's honest blunt words. The subtle expression Ymir held was an obvious sign that something was bothering her. The black-haired beauty's eyes couldn't help but narrow in suspicion.

"Stop staring at me like that," Ymir snapped with annoyance. Her gaze not meeting her friend's. The tall brunette looked towards the gym where punching bags hung from the ceiling. A person or two were the only ones over there during the current early morning and Ymir felt her knuckles itch to hit something. "If you're not going to say anything then I am heading over there."

Mikasa waved a dismissive hand and shrugged. "Have fun," The woman said plainly. "You don't need me to hold your hand for everything anyways."

Ymir rolled her eyes and stormed over to the punching bags. As she grabbed a bundle of hand wraps and started putting them around her hands, she couldn't help but feel a painful pang in her chest. It immediately died as her face hardened in reaction to the feeling but she still knew that it was there. Her blood was fizzling with all sorts of emotions and she had a strong urge to find a way to let them out. The strong irritation of frustration was the main feeling she felt that enwrapped itself around her being.

Placing herself in front of one of the worn-out heavy bags, she positioned herself in a fighting stance. In one swift motion, a fist launched forward and hit the bag. It was an average blow at best, and the few that came after that were the same as the first. She warmed up for a minute, reworking her body to remember the moves and stance from so long ago. It had been a while since she even got into an actual fight. And the sudden thought of hurting some _one_ instead of something flooded her body with adrenaline. Her movements slowly increased in speed and accuracy. The punching bag swayed on impact at the aggressive strikes from her fist. Her breaths started becoming shorter as her pace increased and she felt a flame ignite in her chest and rush through her whole body.

She was angry.

She was angry at someone.

And that someone was herself.

…

"I am having a friend come over tonight," Ilse informed as Ymir walked into their apartment. The dark-haired girl sat on the couch with a laptop in her lap and her head was turned to stare intently at the tv, which played the news.

Ymir reeked of sweat and she desperately wanted to take a shower. The freckled woman stopped a distance away from Ilse as she made a path towards the bathroom. "A friend…?"

"Yeah," Ilse replied, without looking at her housemate. "You're not the only one with buddies. I have some of my own also."

Ymir winced at the comment, not knowing if Ilse intentionally wanted to hurt the brunette. She wanted to believe that she was just joking but something in her tone sounded off.

"Okay…"

Ilse stayed silent for a moment then said vaguely. "This is important to me, Ymir."

The brunette looked away from her friend. "I'll be working tonight, anyways."

"That's not what I meant."

"What are you saying then?"

"It's related to work. I'll be working with a detective in a missing person case."

Ymir started.

"I've always been a journalist," Ilse sighed then turned her head to finally look at Ymir. "But I've never done the right job up until now. There are so many of us who cover the same crap over and over again, that's why it's always been hard for me to gain publicity. And now...I've found someone. He made me realize that I've been going the wrong direction this whole time. He apparently noticed the curiosity that was within me and the fact that I had a good eye for minor details. I had a potential that was being wasted. He wants to work with me. He wants to challenge my abilities. I….He wants my help."

"Oh," Ymir breathed, not knowing what else to say. She knew it was good. For her friend. The mere thought made her throat tighten and something curl in her stomach. She was unsure if the feelings were jealousy and spite or pure guilt and shame. She turned herself around, tearing her gaze away from Ilse. She was finally striving toward something. She was reaching the goal that she didn't even know she had. Ymir felt her fingers curl into a fist. Her knuckles turned white. "That's good." It was good. Yet the words that slipped out of her mouth sounded detached and emotionless. She took a frustrated breath and tried again. "I am glad that you're finally going somewhere with that career. It's going to be nice seeing where you go from here."

She could imagine how Ilse's eyebrows knitting together in concentration. She was probably thinking whether or not to point out Ymir's behavior. Thankfully, she stayed silent about it. Instead, the journalist nodded smally and breathed. "Yeah….I'm finally going _somewhere_."

Ymir didn't reply. Standing there for a few seconds in tense silence, she took one last look over her shoulder then went to shower. When she entered, she threw a fist at the marble counter. Energy similar to anger and desperation made her body shake. For a moment, she could glimpse a familiar faceless figure in the corner of her eyes but they were quick to disappear. The water poured down. Sweeping away the sweat and stench away from Ymir.

When she arrived at work, Marcel waited for her, nursing a cigarette. She pulled out one of her own and smoked alongside him. They stood in silence until the man was almost done with his.

Marcel gave an intent look at the brunette. "What's on your mind?" A wisp of smoke left his lips. He didn't meet her eyes but he stared everywhere else. Even inside her.

Ymir shook her head and lowered her arms. Dropping the cigarette, she smothered it with the ball of her foot. She straightened her posture, new determination, and passion flooding through every limb in her body. She stared at Marcel with intensity.

"I want my kid back."


	14. Chapter 14

If someone were to tell Historia a few years ago that this was how her marriage would turn out with Porco, she would laugh at how ridiculous that statement was. Back then, she was in love with him. Head over heels. She ignored his flaws and embraced his good qualities. She could remember a time when his lips used to press on her temple, and warmth would flood inside her in response. She could recall a time when he would touch her in bed, there was no pain, only pleasure. They used to go to bed together and wake up in the morning with each other being the first thing they see. She used to smile every time at his morning bed hair and drowsy smile.

Now, Historia can hardly imagine those things ever happening again. Even if there was a chance of his kind heart coming back from the darkness, she would never look at him the same way. Only if she had known then what she knew now. Maybe then, things would have been better. Safer. Happier. She could have gone to college instead of abandoning the goal in order to move in with him. Maybe get a stable job and live freely by herself. There was no need to cater to anyone because she would be alone. Or maybe….just maybe, she would have encountered Ymir in a time where she could properly express herself. They could have spent more time together and learned about each other. And maybe if they had found themselves singing their hearts out on a stage in a local restaurant for the first time, she would have kissed her at the end. But that wasn't the case. Things were different. Ymir was somewhere without her and Historia was here.

A new wave of tears rushed out at the saddening thought and Historia held back a sob. She couldn't afford to make any noise. She needed him to believe she was unconscious. That she wouldn't be aware of his blows if she were asleep. The blond knew he wanted to see her in pain. She wonders if he was always this sadistic.

She hated that she was right. When she came back that night, there was alcohol and anger ready to hurt and damage. He was waiting for her. Like a wolf waiting for its weak prey to walk by. He beat her senseless. Insulted her. Assaulted her. It's been hard to stand up. It's been hard to speak. It's been hard to stay sane.

She lost count of how many days it had been since the night she came back. Historia didn't know if it was night or day. All she saw was darkness and it was hard to tell if it was because of her vision or the room was just that way. Somewhere in the house, he stomped around. Yelling "Fucking slut" and "Damn bitch" every other minute. He was livid. He's made it obvious that he felt betrayed. He assumed that she went out to see another man. That she was cheating on him. For the briefest of moments, she thinks about how hilarious the truth is. How would he react if he figured out that she didn't go out to see a man but a _woman_? Would he be even more furious? Perhaps his sense of manhood would be put to shame. Because she figures most men would be embarrassed to realize that their girlfriends or wives cheated on them with another female. Were they that terrible at being a partner that they turned their girls gay? Historia wished she could smile but it was physically impossible.

"You're _mine_." He growled, once, in her ear after a night of endless harsh thrusts and pathetic panting. _His._ She was hardly someone. She was only _his_ possession. Any identity she had was stripped from her by this brutal man. Even if she was conscious enough to know she was indeed a human, that she deserved as much as he did as a citizen, she was still trapped. Stuck between anger and hatred for no reason other than an alcohol sodden mind. He viewed her in that manner and she almost felt convinced that he was right. That this was her only purpose.

Even though her sanity was slowly slipping away and the beatings and insults made her body throb, Historia felt more pain for other reasons. Her heart, this time, aches for someone that isn't him. Just because she's his wife, it doesn't mean he's her husband. She lost that faith the moment she stared into the golden eyes of a brunette with a tormented soul. The woman pulsated on the cold ground and cried for one particular thing. Because memories were everything at this moment.

Her heart was tearing itself apart. The agony was far greater than the soreness of her muscles, the aching of her bruises or the burning of her cuts. Pain comes in many shapes and forms. She ends up understanding one single truth that everyone who has fallen in love can agree with.

Broken hearts hurt more than anything else

…

Ymir doesn't really form an opinion on Onyankopon, Onyan for short, until she notices the lingering looks he gives Ilse. _Dear God,_ Ymir can't help but curl her lip. Ilse has an admirer and Ymir refuses to believe that Ilse _isn't_ aware of it.

He is handsome, that's for sure. He was also fairly tall, strongly built and a certain seriousness in his eyes that makes him all the more attractive. And in the short amount of time the brunette has known him, he was extremely kind and had a likable personality. Ymir believed he always had girls chasing after him considering he was exactly the ideal man for anyone. Luckily for Ilse though, he seemed to have his sights set on the journalist he'll be working with for a while.

Even though it was the first time Ymir had met him, he had been over three previous times. Unfortunately, Ymir had been working during those times, specifically because the brunette had found herself visiting Willy more often. The strange man would end up dragging her into conversations and get her help with small tasks he had to get done. The last time she saw him wasn't even work-related, the well-groomed man had simply invited her over. Willy made it quite obvious that he was fond of her company and at this point, Ymir didn't mind. It wasn't like she had anything better to do.

"That is quite foolish to assume, Ilse," Onyankopon smiled softly at the dark-haired woman as she rambled about some nonsense Ymir couldn't even comprehend.

"Maybe to you," Ilse frowned, as she took a bite of her food. They sat together at the kitchen table, all three of them on either side of the glass furniture. She pointed her fork at the dark-skinned man and muffled around a piece of food, "But it makes all the more sense."

Ymir rolled her eyes and chipped in. "Ilse, sweetheart, you say that like you're the one with several years of experience in this job."

Onyan sent a thankful look at the brunette. "Trust me, you will learn soon enough that what makes the most sense is probably not the case," He moved a hand to place it on Ilse's shoulder. He squeezed it and continued, "Some of the suspects can be more clever than they seem. I may go as far and say that some happen to be insane geniuses."

Ymir pretended to gag at what played in front of her. Ilse immediately kicked her from underneath the table in reply. The freckled woman snickered and the three of them continued on with the conversation.

By the time Onyankopon left their apartment, the sky was a deep purple and the moon shined weakly. The two friends watched the handsome man leave and once his car disappeared from sight, Ymir nudged Ilse playfully.

"When's the wedding?"

Ilse scoffed and turned around without replying. Ymir chuckled, following her roommate.

Since their break-up, Ilse hadn't been with anyone since. At least from what Ymir knew of. The brunette, on the other hand, had been with _many_. Even if she would rather not think of it, their relationship as friends strengthened 10x more compared to when they were romantically involved. Ymir thought back to when Ilse first noticed her pregnant figure. She remembered how the journalist cried. At the time, the brunette didn't know exactly why she did but eventually learned. When you know someone so well, it's easy to feel their own pain. Ilse was able to feel the weight of the foolish mistake Ymir had made. Ilse felt Ymir's confliction at the time. Whether to keep the baby or not.

Ymir shook her head, entering her room. Hitting her head against the wall, she gave a deep sigh. She decided to keep the kid. And for a while she felt as if she was doing good as a mother, with the help of Ilse, Ymir raised her. Ymir lost her little girl when she was four. Out of nowhere, the father appeared and he wanted custody. The judge favored him due to the fact he had much better living conditions and he was completely clean in everything. Ymir's alcohol consumption and the messy apartment was hardly a rival against the man. The brunette remembered when she first heard the news of her loss, someone in a suit that she could hardly remember, gave her a sympathetic smile. "Think of the well being of the child." Ymir could phantom the sensation of their cheekbone against her knuckles. The brunette remembered how it took three security guards and a taser to finally restrain her from harming the poor bastard anymore than she already had done. She recalled the acid feeling of tears that pooled down her cheeks and the unmerciful guilt that swamped over her body. There was a crowd that had formed by the time she was eventually pulled out of the building and escorted to a cop's car. Everyone who witnessed her meltdown ended up concluding one thing.

A parent's love for a child is the most beautiful yet vicious thing a person can experience.

.


	15. Chapter 15

There's a lot more in life then she will ever expect. There will always be something that you will never expect. People have learned to either fear the unknown or excitedly wait. Ymir falls somewhere in between on the spectrum of being absolute afraid or wanting more than anything for the unexpected to come and turn her life upside down. At this point, she finds herself either begging for time to slow down and give her a break or hoping for time to quicken and throw her headfirst into her next situation. The days when she wants to move forward, the brunette has herself balancing on the purpose to simply wish for life to gift her with the positives or to fall deep into the negatives and only hope to resurface after she drowns so many times.

Ymir stood there, her posture straightened as she smoked a cigarette alongside Marcel. The two friends had fallen into a routine where they always have a smoke break together usually before Ymir starts work or after she finishes. Marcel always kept a small content smile during these times. He obviously enjoyed what they shared together and he always made sure to make quick comments or ask exposing questions.

This time, things are different.

The atmosphere is different. What hovers around them has a certain weight that seems to pull one of them lower than the other.

There is a determination flaring in the orbs of golden eyes.

There are straightened lips pressed together in concentration that slowly molds into a conflict that he has felt so many times before.

The two friends say nothing to each other. One's head is swarming with the undying love for a child they want back and the other is drowning in voices from the past and present. It's the first time since they reunited that things are different. Neither are calm but one shows more composure than the other.

Marcel shifted his weight and turned his head slightly. He positioned himself in a way where Ymir could see everything except his eyes and mouth. The man lifted a hand to brush his swept-back hair. As he lifted his cigarette to inhaled, Ymir barely caught the sight of trembling fingers.

The brunette took a step back in response. A gesture that she was ready to go back home. She had just come back from the runs a few minutes ago. The freckled woman figured her friend needed some time to himself. Flicking her wrist, she threw down the remains of her cigarette and extinguished it into the ground.

Marcel obviously noticed what she was preparing to and he moved in a quick motion to get a grip on her bicep. Startled, Ymir looked back at her friend with a question. What stared back at her was a familiar look in soft eyes that the brunette had seen many times before in the past. She took a sharp inhale and opened her mouth to say something. He beat her to it.

"It's been so long since I've heard from _him_ ," The man squeezed her bicep once then let go. He pinched the bridge of his nose and forced a smile. "I really don't know if that's my fault or not."

Ymir knows who Marcel is talking about. She was never really close with his brother but she was familiar with their siblingship. Marcel cared so much for his younger brother. His younger brother, at some point, always wished to give something back in return to his overprotective sibling. The brunette isn't really sure what happened between the two since then but she was aware that they were hardly in contact with each other anymore. _He_ got married and Marcel didn't. That was probably the buffer between them up until now.

"I….what happened?" Ymir isn't sure if she should be asking but she figures it is the least she can do. After all, Marcel is helping her achieve what she deemed as impossible.

The dark-haired man's gaze shifted downwards and he took another inhale of his cigarette. In a sad manner, something that seemed to contradict his personality, he whispers almost too silent, "I don't even know."

Ymir blinked once then twice. She wasn't sure how to comfort. Marcel, himself, wasn't the best when it came to her issues either. They were best friends who didn't know how to be there in the most tormenting of times.

"Should I-?"

"You should go."

Ymir's eyebrows knitted together and she feels a small sensation of guilt. She knows better but there is a nagging that wants her to rebel against his request. She looks the other way and turned. Heading towards her pathetic excuse of a car, she opened the door to the driver's side and stepped inside.

The brunette lifted her chin and took another look at her friend. He looked back. He appeared to be smaller in his clothes and his sad-content smile that stretched upon his face adds to his sudden air of misery. Ymir bit her lip and positioned an arm to hang outside the car's window. She thinks about something to say. To say anything. She finds her words and tries to put as much empathy as she can in the sentence.

"I hope you're okay."

It's a laughable offer.

It sounded so lame.

Yet…

Marcel manages to grin weakly at what his friend said.

Ymir can't help but respond with a smirk. She's an idiot. But as long as her stupidity can make someone else happy, it's worth it.

The brunette nodded and started to put the car in reverse. The moment she applied pressure on the gas pedal so she can leave, the brunette catches the song of a phone's ringtone. As she gazed in the side view mirror, she watched Marcel fumble with the device. A flicker of panic flashed in his eyes as he looks at the Caller ID. There is hesitancy in his eyes. After a few heartbeats, he answers. Ymir drives off.

None of them know it but there is a major significance at that moment.

That phone call alters the lives of four people.

…

When the realization of the house being too quiet hits Historia, her heart rate increases. She didn't think she would fear silence but she felt herself freezing up. _What happened?_ The blond sat up, her whole body shaking at the effort. The woman reached out for something and found herself gripping a shirt. Trying to pull herself up was futile, as the coat hanger snapped off and fell onto her. Historia cringed at the noise as she didn't know if it was even safe to produce a sound.

Eventually, when she manages to grasp a cheap plastic drawer and heave herself up, she tumbled towards the closet door and opened it. She doesn't have any memory of being placed in the closet but she figured it was a long time ago. Her mouth was extremely dry and a hunger clawed at her stomach. Unfortunately, the thought of food made her want to vomit.

The blond stumbled forward, out into the hallway. It takes a few steps to make her immediately regret leaving the safety of the dark closet.

Around the corner lurked a madman.

…

It had been a decent amount of time since Ymir had been to the bar. When she entered, the warmth and sound of happy drunks and music were enough to provide a sense of comfort. It eased her a bit. The familiarity was still there and she saw enough recognizable faces to know that this was a bar united by acquaintanceship. Everyone had a story. Even if none of the drinkers were willing to tell it. But everyone knew there was one. There was always a reason why anyone drinks in the first place.

Speaking of recognizable faces, Ymir spotted the one and only tall blond female in the bar, behind the counter, serving drinks. When she finished setting down a beverage for a ruffled looking man, the blond went back to a certain black-haired woman with a lazy smile and crutches. The brunette felt a weird pain curl inside her when she witnessed the look the two shared with each other. The look in their eyes was painfully familiar.

Ymir wiped at her face and swallowed the lump in her throat. The brunette was definitely right when she first witnessed their interaction. Yelena and Pieck were in a relationship. Because never had Ymir seen Yelena look at someone like that. Shoving down a feeling that Ymir wouldn't accept as jealousy, she approached the two with feigned confidence and a knowing smirk.

Yelena caught sight of her first. Straightening her posture, the employee of the bar put her hands on her hips. "Look who decided to come back."

"Missed you too," Ymir hummed, sitting beside Pieck. The black-haired woman gave a wave in greeting which encouraged Ymir enough to know that she wasn't interrupting anything. "You're life must be 10 times better now that I am here."

"Of course," Pieck chirped while Yelena gave a snort.

"Look at you," Yelena said, the corner of her lips twitching in an effort to hide a smile. "You've obviously been busy, you almost look like a different person!" The blond moved, starting to prepare a drink for the brunette as she continued talking, "It's been awhile Ymir, I was actually kinda scared. Lately, most of my regulars have been disappearing. Hell, one of the men during the day seemed to just vanish out of thin air. His buddy can't even get into contact with him and they usually spend their whole day here."

Ymir tapped a finger on the wooden surface of the counter and hummed. She still wasn't sure if she should be offended or not. Rolling her shoulders, the freckled woman decided to say, "Well, maybe that is a good thing. Has it ever dawned on you that some of us hate being alcoholics?"

The blond paused for a moment, wincing. The realization that flashed across her face was almost humorous. She bit her lip and slid a drink towards Ymir. Pieck, who was watching their interaction, had her gaze directed towards Yelena with a message only the two could understand. The bartender stared at Pieck for a moment then flushed. Ymir's friend cleared her throat then looked back at her with a regret. The brunette tasted something sour in her mouth. The exchange between the two was enough to make Ymir's heart clench painfully. Scratching the nape of her neck, Yelena sighed in an awkward manner. "Sorry…"

The brunette took a sip from her beer then gave a small nod. "It's fine."

It wasn't.

…

There is a lot a person can feel when they stare in the maniacal eyes of someone they once loved. It clicks all in an instance when the realization of you being in danger finally hits you. But the reaction is always too late. Historia was too slow. She's always been slow.

He grips her wrist, pinning her against a wall. The swampy touch of the man hurts more than anything and she fears her bones would splinter in his grasp. She gives up her struggle in an instance when she feels his breath on her neck. The blond turned her head slightly to catch his eyes. They stare back with insanity. It's a new look she's never seen anymore. Was this it? Did he finally snap after so long?

It takes more than a few heartbeats to realize he isn't doing anything. His grip is just painful and his alcohol scented breath is caressing the sensitive skin of her neck. She almost feels frozen in time. She would rather have that as the situation. The ancient grandfather clock that rested somewhere in the house ticked away. Its noise seeping into the silence that haunted their home. She remembered when they first got the clock. They found it on the side of the road. It was left on the streets to eventually be thrown away. It was a perfectly fine clock, it was just old. That was the problem. But with willingness and enthusiasm, the two put the clock in their care and took it home.

That was a time when they could agree on things.

When she could have a say in situations.

Oh, how far they have come.

He doesn't say anything nor does anything.

For some reason, it makes her more afraid.

She has many words threatening to spill out. The atmosphere is tense. Heavy and nasty as it pulled her downwards. Her blue eyes drift to look past him.

Historia trembled. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a shuddering breath. It's her first word to him in a long time. She doesn't know what to expect when they pour onto his dry skin and wake him back to reality.

"Why…?"

Porco jolted, breaking out of his haze. His sharp eyes snap towards Historia's ocean blues. For the first time, there is an awareness and clearness in those irritated orbs that is almost frightening. A puff of air pushes out of his nose and his grip tightens around her wrist. He looks her deeply in the eyes and Historia feels an overwhelming sensation fall over her. It's the first time he has finally looked at her like she was _someone_.

The man's voice cracked as he spoke quietly. "You're….yo-you're a terrible person."

Historia freezes, there is pure hatred in his eyes but his expression is soft. Without a word, Porco moves and swiftly wraps his hands around her neck. It's an unexpected action and it sends panic to flare up everywhere in her body. She frantically scratches at him as he tries to take the oxygen away from her. Small pathetic gasping noises come out brokenly as she feebly fights back. There is a reason why she stays quiet. Breaking the silence leads to fatal things. Historia knew that but she said that one word anyways. His fingers are cold against her neck as he keeps from the air entering her lungs. She feels the sensation of defeat threatening to overwhelm her and consume her entire being.

She feels her dry eyes produce tears once more.

She lifts a leg and kicks.

Porco stumbles backward for a moment. Enough time for her to take in the flavor of precious oxygen. He is swift though. When she prepares to run, he stops her from moving.

She finds herself staring at a muzzle crafted from black steel. One fingertip lays on a trigger.

Behind the weapon lays the violent broken eyes of a crazed man. Tears flow from the corners of his eyes and his teeth are bared. His neck muscles are tensed and he is quivering with anger.

Historia moves ever so slightly.

He shifts and points the gun at her forehead.

"Don't you dare move."

The blonde trembles.

She says one word again.

"W-why…?"

"Shut up!" He jerks the gun, making the weapon rattle.

Her eyebrows knit together and she says it again. She knows at this point, there is nothing to lose.

"Why?!"

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! I will blow your brains out! Be quiet, y-you bitch!"

Historia chokes on tears and leans forward. Leaning her forehead on the barrel of humanity's most harmful invention, Historia gives in. The cool touch of the metallic surface chills her skin. She lets out an airy breath.

"Then kill me."

She gives in at that moment. She accepts it.

There is silence in return.

In one single minute, her world turns upside down.

The pressure of a gun leaves in one slow shaky movement. The weapon shivers in his grasp. Her eyes flit upwards and she watches as he presses the muzzle against his temple.

Both of them break.

Shaking, Porco closes his eyes. His jaw clenched and his Adam's apple bobbed in tension. The man rests his finger on the trigger and threatens to shoot. Tears stream from his eyes and he whispers, "All I wanted to be was a good brother…"

Historia just stares. All emotions leaving her body. Her eyes are red and puffy and there are tear stains on her cheeks.

A psychotic man exposes himself in front of the wife he's abused for so long.

"H-He always supported m-me….I ju-just wanted to give something in r-return. But I was never good en-enough, no m-matter wha..what I was denied promotions. I could never climb up….I could never make it up to him. I th-thought you w-would have mon-money, something I could just give to him. But you were _nothing_. You had _nothing_. You're worthless. _I'm_ worthless. I just wanted to be _somebody. Somebody_ for him. To pr-prove to him that he didn't ne-need to support m-me. Th-that I could provide…..but no. I'm a failure. You are too... And I _hate_ you for that. I hate _us_ for who we are."

Historia knows it doesn't justify the brutal torment he has put her through. She knows that a simple confession will never make up for the bruises that lay scattered across her body. The thousands of tears that poured from her eyes and burned her skin. Or for the constant sleepless nights that pain tortured her with. She knows better than that. Darkness can never be justified. Not now. Not later. She feels something fragile in her heart that makes her give the slightest of smiles. He was a monster. She was someone who wasn't wanted by her own kin. And together they created a toxicity that damaged both of them. But mostly her. She will always be a victim when it comes to Porco. She didn't have enough strength to care for a man who tried to defend his reasons for abuse. He was worthless because he didn't try hard enough. He was an idiot. They both knew that. He was psychotic. She knew that.

"Leave."

The gun lowers towards the ground. The drunken man stares at her with brief confusion. Then it clicks. Trembling, he wipes his face and muttered softly, "Marcel…" He looks guilty and frustrated.

He disappears from sight and as time climbs by, his actions are more frantic. More panicked. It is slowly getting harder for Historia to pay attention. She hears muffled shouting from him. And then the slamming of the door that shakes the whole house. He's gone.

The blond woman collapses.

After so long….

She breaks on the cold floor.

She cries.

She brings her hands to her throat and tries to finish the job he failed to do.

But she's too weak.

A sob pours from her lips.

She isn't sure what to do.

So she sleeps.

And then she dreams.

Nightmares plague her mind.


	16. Chapter 16

Marcel didn't answer his phone when Ymir called him in the morning. She doesn't hear from him until she has finished her workout session with Mikasa. There is one sentence that hovered underneath his name as the notification turned on the screen of her phone.

 _ **Don't come to work today.**_

The brunette had her finger hesitate for a moment as she stared at the message. Then, after a long drink of water, Ymir typed two letters and sent it.

 _ **Ok.**_

…

When she asked if she could just stay over for the day, Eren and Carly were enthusiastic while Mikasa was nonchalant. There was a small warmth that enveloped her as Ymir caught Carly in her arms as she ran towards her. Eren had work today and Mikasa was off. The brunette male explained that sometimes, weekends were the worst of days at the hospital. Those were the times when he was most needed.

Carly and Ymir wished Eren goodbye as the man went out the door. Immediately, as soon as the door closed, Carly dragged the brunette women into one of her games. Mikasa just rolled her eyes and went off to do her own thing.

Laughing and playing with Carly was easy, the seven-year-old girl was entertaining and enjoyable. Ymir always felt better around her. She felt _good_. And got the longest but briefest of moments, she forgot about everything. But even then, there were pauses. Everything a few comfortable seconds of silence fell onto them and Carly's eyes lingered on the tv for a little longer than intended. Ymir would stare and feel sad. Of course, she felt sad. She was staring at a child. What she was currently experiencing was something she could experience every day.

The brunette was sick of pitying herself. Practically nauseated. She's been in the dark for too long. She had finally achieved a bit of light and she was holding onto it for dear life. She could get her baby girl back. With enough strive. With enough determination. Each step was closer and closer. She was bettering herself despite everything. It has been a little over a year since her loss. _She_ was four at the time when she was given to her father. She's been five for a few months. Ymir hoped to get her back before she turned six. She wasn't sure if it would be easy as she wanted. There would have to be arrangements. Research. Paperwork. The court case. At one point, Ymir may have to end up talking to the father of her child again. Their last encounter had been fairly bitter, more on her part.

Ymir sits back on the couch. Her shoulders relaxed as she rolled her neck. At least she was going somewhere now. She knew what to do. This time she wouldn't be stopped either. She was aware of the possible chance of her losing this battle again, and if she did, she would try again. The brunette would appropriately put it as she didn't have time for "bullshitting around" anymore. Whether or not that's a healthy way to cope with grief was up for debate. She had to summon the part of her she lost. The part of her before the brunette's departure from her child. There was confidence there. Energy. And if she got that back, and this time wasn't controlled by anger and frustration, maybe she could be charismatic enough to make her way through this situation. Ymir knew words weren't the only thing that would help her win a battle she was going to start, but she knew they would contribute enough.

The freckled woman sighed.

Carly turned her head at the noise and eagerly crawled her way onto the couch. The black-haired girl cuddled up to Ymir's side and smiled innocently. "Are you okay?"

Ymir lifted her head and looked down at the girl. "A little, yeah."

"What's wrong?"

"Adult things."

Carly looked confused for a moment before realization struck her. "Adult things? Like what Mom and Dad deal with?"

"I mean, it differs for everyone," Ymir said, moving a hand to brush hair out of the girl's face.

"Every _adult_ ," Carly corrected with a matter-of-fact tone. "I don't have to deal with that yet!"

Ymir snorted. " _Yet_."

"Yet!" Carly exclaimed, energetically. "I got years and years and years!"

"Which will go by before you know it."

"What if I do know it, though?"

Ymir pressed her lips together and shook her head with a chuckle. Wrapping an arm around the girl's shoulder and giving a squeeze, the brunette smiled. "You will be one hell of a teenager."

Carly wriggled from Ymir's grasp and pointed accusingly at the older woman. "You said a bad word! A dollar for me!"

"I said a bad _place_ ," The freckled brunette placed a hand on the girl's finger and moved it away from her face. "It's not the same thing."

"Is too!"

"Is not."

"Is too!"

"Is not."

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is no-!"

"Would you two, please, stop arguing?" Mikasa walked into the room with her phone in her hand and her purse resting between the side of her torso and left arm.

Carly bounced onto her knees and leaned over Ymir to place her palms on the arm of the couch. "Ymir said a bad word! She said he-!"

"Don't you dare repeat that, young missy," Mikasa sent a glare towards her daughter then towards Ymir. " _You_ know the drill. Pay up."

"I'm not even at the table?!" The brunette yelped in confusion.

"Rules changed!" Carly explained helpfully. "Daddy has been cursing a lot more often!"

"Daddy has," Mikasa replied, standing beside her daughter and rubbing the girl's cheek affectionately. "I'll be heading to the office. The boss requested my assistance."

"Is everything okay?" Ymir enquired, getting up from the couch. She's never thought about it much but Mikasa, indeed, has a job. She wasn't just Carly's mother. She wasn't just Eren's wife. She wasn't just Ymir's friend. She was a working woman who helped support the home they lived in, alongside her loving husband. The brunette never found the noirette's job interesting but she didn't think less of her. Mikasa was an interior designer. She loved putting her mind to work and making things look _good_.

"Someone misplaced the blueprints for one of our major clients," The beauty scoffed, clearly annoyed and upset. "There's a possible chance they are lost for good, I might have to recreate them."

Carly raced over to hug Mikasa's legs as they headed towards the front door. Clinging on to her mother's legs, she said, "Me and Ymir will hold down the fort!"

Mikasa smiled softly and tapped the tip of her daughter's nose. "First there has to be a fort to hold."

The girl's green eyes lit up with excitement and she detached herself from her mother and went towards the couch. "Come on, Ymir!" Carly barked, removing the cushions from the furniture. "We have to get building!"

The mentioned brunette looked towards Mikasa. "She'll be safe with me, I promise."

"Just don't burn down the house while I am gone," The woman responded, giving a curt nod. "I will see you two later." She shut the front door before Ymir could reply. The brunette stood there for a moment, comprehending the abruptness.

"Ymir, come on!" Carly's voice pulled Ymir away from her thoughts before she could start thinking. The brunette grinned and started to help the seven-year-old build her fortress. The brunette ended up losing herself into the world of dragons and knights. Elves and wizards. Chivalry and hardships. The two battle alongside each other and against each other. They saved people and they lost some. Hours passed, and they both ended up sleeping on the floor.

…

By the time she was leaving the house, the sky and grown dark and cloudy. A storm was swelling on the horizon. Ymir could smell the rain in the air. The scent thick in the cool breeze. Carly stood with her arms wrapped Mikasa's waist and her mother's hand resting on her head. She watched Ymir with bright green eyes.

"Protect the fortress from the storm dragon," Ymir said, crouching down and lightly tapping the girl's nose.

The girl gave a determined nod and detached herself from Mikasa to hug the brunette. Ymir returned it and felt something lift in her chest.

When straightening herself, Mikasa raised an eyebrow and looked up at the sky. "Are you sure you don't want me to drive you home? It looks like it will rain any second."

"Nah," Ymir waved a hand and scratched the nape of her neck. "Besides a little water won't hurt. And if I don't wanna be drenched, I can just run."

Mikasa pressed her lips together. "Your apartment is a long way from here."

"It's not that far. Shouldn't Eren be home by now?"

"It just depends."

When Mikasa didn't elaborate on the statement, Ymir just wished a final goodbye and headed off. The woman stalked off, feigning a confident posture. By the time she was out of the neighborhood and into town, she hunched over and out her hands in her pocket.

She felt suddenly hollow.

After the excitement of today, she felt drained.

Ymir was very aware of her determination still being present and yet, she felt empty. Like something was missing. And it made a familiar sadness well up inside.

Perhaps since she was so happy not so long ago, her mind was unconsciously already missing the warmth and joy. The brunette wasn't positive though. Then again, she wasn't sure about a lot of things.

A splash of water on her cheek made Ymir jerk upwards and lift her head. Above, the grey of the sky rumbled slowly. The brunette peered around to realize she was at the town square. The very few people around hurried their pace and went for shelter from the sudden rain. A few women slinked into a restaurant. A man rushed into his car park. A couple squeezed underneath an umbrella and quickened their walk. Some individuals who were entertaining themselves at the water fountain in the center found shelter at one of the nearby bus stops.

The freckled individual raised her arms to put her hood over her head. Her shoes scraped against the wet concrete as she continued her way home. The town square emptied and the rain started to pour harder. Droplets were starting to wet her hairline and the woman found herself wiping the cold liquid from her face.

"Ymir!"

The mentioned woman froze in her steps.

She looked behind her and only saw a stranger standing by the curb, waiting to cross the street as a few cars passed by. Then she looked ahead of her, lifting her head slightly. Her pulse stopped for the smallest of moments then quickened.

Not far, a trembling small figure stumbled towards her.

"Historia…?" The name tumbled from her mouth softly. The brunette stood for a moment confused.

The woman didn't reply. She continued to shakily make her way towards her. Through the rain, it didn't take Ymir long to notice her beaten and worn body.

She raced towards the blond and caught her as soon as Historia slipped. Gripping her forearms, Ymir gazed down at the woman and felt herself drown in those lifeless blue eyes. The girl looked up at her with quivering lips. Historia offered a shy smile and then she trembled into the brunette's arms. With a brief confusion, her arms wrapped around Historia's torso and she paused.

Ymir pulled her back after a few seconds and felt her throat tighten. "Y-you left m….," The brunette stopped, her eyes trailing along Historia's thin body. A red and irritated mark laid around her neck. The bruises dotted along her exposed arms. She wore thin dirty clothing. "W-who did this to y-you?!"

The blond opened her mouth to reply but then stopped. Eyelids drooping, she leaned forward and fell into Ymir. The brunette took a step back, losing balance for a moment. Ymir repeated Historia's name over and over again and shook her lightly. With no response, Ymir felt her heart drop. She felt light as a feather as the brunette lifted her. She glanced around desperately for an opportunity of transportation. When she saw no car in sight, the brunette gripped the blond closer to her body and started to run.

Everything was a blur. The adrenaline pumping every single one of her movements had Ymir on a different type of high. What would normally take a 20 minute trip with a car from her location, only took her 10. She busted through the hospital doors, into the emergency room. Everyone who was around was startled and disturbed. The woman at the front desk quickly stood up in alarm. She immediately recognized Ymir as she was Dr. Yaeger's friend and rushed towards her.

Before the brunette knew it, the blond was taken from her arms. Ymir watched her limp body go alongside employees. Her chest was suddenly on fire and she felt tears start to stream down her face A nurse came towards her with a towel and Ymir absentmindedly wrapped it around herself.

The brunette had a question.

And desperately wanted an answer.

 _What happened?_


	17. Chapter 17

Her eyes fluttered open ever so slowly, at first everything was a messy blur. Historia could make out smears of colors and blobs of shapes. She didn't know how long it took her mind to register in her disoriented state but once it did, the familiarity of it made her foggy mind think of one word.

 _Hospital._

Historia wondered for the briefest of moments why she was there. The overwhelming mist of exhaustion kept her from comprehending anything more than what she saw. What she stared at.

White walls. Bright lights. A thin pale sheet. An iv trailed alongside the inside of her arm. The monitor, beside her hospital bed, beeped distantly and faintly. A muffled noise. And then there was….Ymir?

The thought of the woman sparked something in her. The blond opened her mouth to attempt saying the name aloud. The name tumbled out of her mouth sloppily due to her current state. Thankfully, the pathetic noise was enough to wake the brunette as she dozed uneasily on a chair by the window of her hospital room.

Quickly, the freckled woman stood up with wide eyes. She made her way to Historia's side in one swift side and crouched down to peer at those glazed ocean eyes. It was like a frost took over the blond. The tired woman felt a chill in her bones. She stared absentmindedly at Ymir, so confused but unable to manage an appropriate sentence in able to communicate with a stranger she had a connection with.

" _You've been asleep for a while...you're in the hospital,_ " The brunette's voice sounded as if it were far away. So far. Historia wished it was closer.

"Wha...what happen...ed…?" The question sputtered out in a sluggish rasp.

Her gold eyes stared deeply into her blue ones. For one hesitant moment, the woman didn't speak. Then, reaching forward, Ymir grabbed one of her frigid hands and squeezed it. " _I don't know._ "

If she didn't know, then did Historia have the answers? She tried to recall a memory. Anything but she couldn't think of anything through the grogginess. Almost as if she didn't have any memories at all. Everything was blank. And she was just….tired. Oh so tired. Her eyelids dropped and the comfort of sleep called towards her. She welcomed it and feel deep into the abyss of unconsciousness.

Dark.

Dark.

Dark.

Then light.

When she opened her eyes again, the sunlight filtered onto her face. She twitched for a moment, unwilling to move but then shifted her head. She looked around for a moment, noticing the room was empty. Historia wasn't bothered for a few seconds until everything flooded back into her mind. Every memory she had. What she went through. What she endured. What she escaped. What she did. How she got here.

Her shoulders slumped wearily and tears started to form at the corners of her eyes. Every bad thing toppled over themselves, trying to attack both her mind and heart with sharp daggers. The pain. She felt it. Emotionally and physically. The aching. The sadness. The stiff limbs. The frustration. Everything _he_ did to her was still here. On her arms, the red angry marks around her neck, on the side of her torso. And yet, even though she was in such a position, she remembered that he fled. He left. Like a coward. Ever so slightly, she felt a little better.

"Historia!"

The mentioned blond looked up, directing her head towards the door of her room. There, she stood. Ymir. Looking more alive than ever before. Seeing her that way made Historia feel good. It was more satisfying than knowing Porco was gone. The brunette, despite the concern that made her eyebrows knit together, appeared healthier and more energized compared to when she first met her. Since the last time she saw her. When was that? How long ago was the night? The night where she fled from Sasha and Ymir with no explanation?

"You're awake," She made her way towards the blond with relief. With a crooked, slightly awkward, grin, she added, "Good Afternoon."

"Afternoon?" Historia echoed. She glanced over at the window, noticing the blinds were slightly opened. The sunlight that crawled through was definitely not morning light. Historia placed a hand on her forehead. "How long was I out for?"

Ymir's eyes mimicked hers, looking at the window briefly. Then, turning her attention back to the blond, she said, "A little more than a day, not counting last time when you woke up for a short minute. How do you feel?"

"I feel better than before," Historia replied honestly, looking into those golden orbs. She liked the way they appeared. Determination laid within the depths with a small ounce of desperation. Almost like a hunger that wouldn't be satisfied until she achieved her desired goal. The blond wanted to ask about it. She wondered what happened to make the brunette have a sudden drive. A will. She looked so much healthier and not as tired. "What about you?"

"I don't think that matters right now," Ymir chuckled dryly. "I am not the one in the hospital bed." She paused, her gaze drifting away. She bit her lip, implying there was something she wanted to say. Whatever it was, the brunette didn't state or ask. Instead, she straightened herself and cleared her throat. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

The woman felt her stomach clench at the thought of food. Sudden nausea surprised her for a moment and she had to swallow the bile that formed in her throat. "No," The blond shook her head. "I don't think I could handle food right now, but water would be nice."

"Water, got it," Ymir snapped her fingers and started to head out the door. Then stopping in her tracks, she looked back and asked for clarification, "Are you sure you don't want anything to eat?"

"I am fine," Historia replied, trying to reassure the brunette. "But thank you."

"Uh, no problemo, I'll be back."

"You will be back," The blond echoed as the freckled woman left the room. She couldn't help but smile to herself. _She's a dork._ Historia hardly knew anything about Ymir but she felt drawn to her. She was a comforting presence to have around. Her serious demeanor hardly drew Historia away. She just wanted to know her even more. Experience all the emotions that the brunette had to offer.

Unconsciously, her fingers curled and clenched onto the thin sheet beneath her. When she noticed, she raised her hand up and examined her palm. Warmth was on the edge of her fingertips and creeping ever so slowly throughout her body. A part of her felt free. A heavy weight was missing and she knew it was because of her newfound freedom. It didn't mean she was completely healed though. She knew it would take a long time before she would actually be _fine_. The blond being self-aware of this made her feel slightly comforted. At least she wasn't completely fucked up. Despite the scars and memories she would carry from a man who didn't love her. Or the fact that she was always isolated and trapped. There was a nervous anxious feeling spawning inside her and she felt like she was going to throw up. Even though there was a relief, she felt extremely stressed and overwhelmed after everything that happened. She didn't want to think about it but it was so recent and fresh. It was hard not to.

 _From this point on, things will be different._ The blond sighed, feeling tired. She wanted to sleep. She didn't have to think about anything when she slept. Well even if there was that, she was also genuinely tired. She usually was an uneasy sleeper and was easily woken. Even if she had already slept for more than 24 hours, at least from what Ymir said.

Speaking of the brunette, she walked in with two bottles of water and a nurse. The nurse was a thin woman with short cherry brown hair. The two of them walked to Historia's bedside. Ymir placed the bottled water by the small table stand and jerked a thumb over her shoulder, "I'll give you two some privacy and wait outside."

Historia wanted to say, " _You don't have to_ " but the words never managed to form. Something pulled at her, telling her it would be better off she was outside the room for a bit. She didn't think it would be appropriate either considering their relationship was still new. _Relationship._ Her heart skipped a beat, knowing that their status was of questionable friendship. She wasn't even sure if there was a correct label between them but the idea of having Ymir as a friend wasn't a displeasing one.

"Hello Historia, my name is Nifa," The nurse looked around the same age as her. Her eyes were bright gold and she offered a friendly smile. "I am just here to ask a few questions and check up on your vitals."

"Oh, okay," Historia nodded slowly. The nurse took up the bottle of water that rested beside the hospital bed and offered it to the blond. She took it with gratitude.

"I'll have to say, you're admission process was a little difficult," Nifa commented as she watched Historia drink the entire bottle. There was a shadow of concern that covered her face as she spoke. "Your friend helped as much as she could, though." Nifa took the bottle and disposed of it after Historia finished. Her eyebrows knitted together. "Before I ask any questions, I would like to inform you that you collapsed due to malnutrition. You currently don't have enough nutrients in your body and you are dangerously underweight."

Historia didn't feel it until now but she realized how small she felt in her hospital gown. Her fingers fiddled with the plastic bracelet that was around her wrist which was placed when she was unconscious. The blond bit her lip.

The questioning process made her anxious and there were times when Nifa sent her suspicious looks. Historia did her best to answer her questions and she was relieved when the question of how she ended up in this position wasn't asked. Nifa then proceeded to check her treatment, heart rate, blood pressure and more. After the procedure finished, the nurse gave a small gentle smile and nodded. "You have bruised ribs and as stated previously, you are malnourished. The healing process will take a couple of weeks but it will go by in no time."

"How long do I have to stay here?" Historia isn't sure why she asked. She knew there was nothing waiting at home and she wasn't sure if she would know what to do with herself after...everything.

"The doctor will give you the official date when he comes to talk to you," Nifa informed. "But my guess is no more than two weeks. As long as you are eating, exercising and resting properly, you will recover."

After everything, she would finally have time to recover. Recover both physically and mentally. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in. Once Nifa left, Ymir walked in. As the brunette neared her, Historia spoke. "She said that it might be two weeks before I get out."

The freckled individual looked at the woman, scratching the nape of her neck. With hesitance, she asked, "Does your family know about what happened?"

The blond froze, inwardly cringing. When Nifa asked if there was anyone they would be able to call, Historia had told her no. It was a sad truth. She hadn't heard from her father in forever. The aunt who raised her for a few years was halfway across the world, the last time she heard, and Historia wasn't sure she cared enough to come see her. She knew of her older sister, Freida, but didn't know her number and hadn't talked to her since she married Porco. When she thought about it, the only person who was closest to her was Ymir. And the brunette hardly knew her…..

"No," Historia replied honestly, looking at Ymir. And then with a shaky and emotional voice, she looked down at her lap and confessed. "You're the only one…." The way she said those words left an open meaning. The small blond didn't know any other way to say it. Ymir was the only one for a lot of things that she couldn't list in one breath. More importantly, Historia felt as if Ymir was the only one that _cared_. Weary and exhausted, the woman felt tears form at the edge of her eyes. A storm of emotions hitting her. She shuddered.

Unexpectedly, she felt a hand on her shoulder and the blond tilted her head to look at the only other person in the room. Ymir stared back at her with her eyes heavy with unspoken feelings. It felt like an eternity. The two of them just looking at each other as one cried silently.

One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Three heartbeats. And then she leaned in.

Ymir wrapped her arms around Historia, gripping her in a comforting embrace.

Historia felt herself come undone.

At least this time, she felt safe.

She felt loved.


	18. Chapter 18

She hadn't seen Marcel in several days now but he had her resume work about three days ago. Today, Ymir only had to visit Willy and then she could head over to the hospital to spend time with Historia. The visits had busied her schedule even more and the brunette found herself hardly having time to spare. She didn't mind though. Seeing Historia was worth it. It wasn't like Ymir had anything better to do. The only frustrating thing about the whole ordeal was her car was starting to give her even more problems. She always knew it was a piece of shit but now she was starting to feel the distaste Eren always feels when he sees the vehicle.

The engine sputtered as she pulled up to the gate of Willy Tybur's mansion. A simple look at the boxy-looking camera with a speaker was enough to get the barrier open and she drove inside. Her relationship with Willy was an odd once but she felt comfortable enough to call him a friend despite being a customer. Willy seemed to enjoy her company and Ymir didn't mind. She was actually warming up to him and getting used to his unusual behavior.

Parking her car in the driveway of a large open garage, Ymir stepped out. In front of the house, Willy was at the porch putting up Christmas lights. At the sight of the man decorating, the brunette let out a puff of air. The holidays were already approaching. She should have noticed due to the recent forecast of cold water. And when she thought back to it, ever so slowly, the town was slowly being covered in festive decor.

Instead of getting the suitcase filled with Willy's wanted products, Ymir approached the man as he finished putting the last of the lights on the porch.

He grinned and gave a curt nod in greeting. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he commented. "I'll have to get someone else to do the second story of the house. Heights happen to be a weak point of mine."

Ymir snorted with amusement and the blond man continued. "You wait out here for a moment and I'll get the both of us drinks and then we can share a couple of cigarettes." The brunette gave a look of approval and he went off. She would only have to spend at least an hour or so here and she could be off again.

Shifting her weight, Ymir leaned onto the railing of the porch and looked out at the massive land that the mansion had. A little distance away, a lush wooded area surrounding the land as a barrier. The brunette wondered if Willy ever had troubles with wild animals. Probably not. A thin boundary of barbed wire laid between the tamed and wildland.

Her drive here was always relaxing due to the scenery. It was beautiful to be away from civilization and she didn't blame Willy for living all the way out here. With his father being a former president, she could only imagine how tiring it must have been for the man to be constantly around people. Being out here you had privacy. Isolation. It was more comforting than unsettling. Ymir wouldn't mind owning a house out in the woods or country. It would be her, her daughter and….

The brunette felt her face flush at the thought.

 _Historia_.

What a childish thought. She was blushing like a love-struck high schooler. She had hardly ever felt this way in her life and the fact she was experiencing this as a full-grown adult was almost laughable.

Her expression grew serious as she continued thinking about the blond. It had been a week now since the woman has been in the hospital and they had talked a lot. Not a lot about their personal lives though. Nothing too personal. They hadn't even had a serious talk about what was going on between them. What happened that night at Nicolo's restaurant. Ymir was honestly afraid to ask but she had to know. She wouldn't start the discussion during Historia's hospital stay but she was aware that it had to happen soon. The brunette had to know how Historia ended up in her current state. _Why did you leave me that night?_

Ymir remembered those two words she spoke with the weight of confession laced into each syllable. _You're beautiful._ It wasn't a simple compliment. It was more than what it seemed. There was a deeper meaning that the brunette knew she got across to the short blond. She knew Historia understood. Well, she felt really sure that Historia got the message.

Her attention was taken away from her thoughts as she caught a glimpse of a figure near the tree line. Due to the distance, it was hard to make out distinguishable features but she was sure it was the shape of a….person? Her heart skipped due to the absurdity of what she was witnessing. She opened her mouth to call out but a hand on her shoulder startled her.

"I hope you don't mind sparkling water," Willy said, handing her a narrow can. He took a sip from his glass with a small curve to his lips.

"Er, I don't mind," Ymir glanced over to the treeline and saw that the person was gone. Blinking a couple of times, she shook her head. Maybe it wasn't a person. It must have been a wild animal who wandered a little too close. Who knows? It didn't matter. She doubted it was a big deal. Her gold eyes fluttered to her sparkling drink.

The blond man offered her a cigarette and the two of them starting smoking. He blew the smoke away from the brunette and said, "Do you have any plans for the holidays?"

Ymir felt something twist inside her when the words reached her words. She closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on the smoke inside her lungs. She would rather not let dark thoughts try to horde and conquer her mind. She was getting better. The holidays wouldn't ruin that. "Don't really know. Maybe?"

Willy hummed. "Are you spending Christmas with family? Friends? Or…maybe a lover?"

Ymir snorted in amusement. "Hah, I don't know about that either." She took a drink from her glass. The person that popped into her mind was Historia. She had to hide a smile at the thought as a warm bubbly feeling fizzed through her veins. _Childish._ At this point, Ymir didn't care.

…

Breathless.

She didn't realize how weak she was until she felt herself grow exhausted by the simple movement of walking. During her entire stay at the hospital, they had made sure Historia was walking around the hospital more than one time a day to build strength in her muscles. Ever so slowly, she felt herself finding more strength to walk long distances. Her effort was encouraged by the fact that this was part of the healing process, that held more meaning to her than anyone else, and the companied she had with Ymir.

The brunette had made it her goal to visit Historia every day and the blond couldn't complain. She enjoyed Ymir's presence. She appreciated that the tall woman would stay with her longer than necessary. She was growing stronger. Her gratitude directed towards Ymir.

Their conversations seemed to be endless and they never seem to run out of things to talk about. When silence, every now and then, settled between them, it was a comfortable one. No awkwardness floated in the air. Historia was aware that their discussions never went to a personal topic. They avoided talking about family or their past as if they would be killed for it. The blond knew she was the reason why they never reached such intimate conversations. They still had to talk about...well, everything. Historia didn't know if she was ready for that. She doubted a hospital would be the appropriate place to converse about it either.

"I never really liked a particular celebrity or artist, like get obsessed or be a devoted fan," Historia commented, her eyebrows scrunching together in concentration as she tried to focus on walking and Ymir's words. "No one ever seemed to catch my interest. I know girls my age back then were usually boy-crazy over those mainstream bands and yeah, I enjoyed some of their songs, but I never freaked out over them."

The brunette bit her lip. "Hmmm."

"What?"

"Nah, I just think it is weird," Ymir chuckled lightly.

"In what wait?"

"It's just, er, I had this phase where I was really into the genre rock when I was younger. Tweens-early teens, I suppose. Had the whole hairstyle, makeup and attitude, it was crazy," She rubbed the back of her neck, smiling awkwardly and a small flush to her cheeks.

 _Cute._ Historia grinned and asked curiously, "Is that why you know how to play guitar?"

"Guitar and a bit of bass. Never really planned on making a career out of it though, just enjoyed it as a hobby."

The two of them continued walking for a bit, feeling settled in each other's company. Historia felt as if her insides were doing flips and getting mixed up and she knew it wasn't because of her exercise. She hadn't had simple conversations such as this one for a long time. Ever since Ymir's first visit, it has been constant nonsense that seemed to be interesting. The blond was never bored with Ymir's words and the brunette never seemed to be bored with Historia's.

"It's getting colder," Ymir commented, her hands shoved in her pockets. "The holidays are coming up."

"Yeah," Historia looked around the whiteness of the hospital. Her gaze drifting towards an empty room with the door open, she caught a glimpse of the outside world. It looked bleak. A nearby tree was almost barren and noticed the tiny raindrops starting to form on the glass window. "They are. Do you like Christmas?"

The brunette shrugged. "I don't really care about the holidays."

Historia quirked an eyebrow. "Really? So, you don't have a favorite holiday?"

Ymir shook her head.

"You are an odd one, Ymir," She laughed.

"Maybe," The freckled woman's lips curved. The distance between the two of them seemed to grow shorter and shorter. Ymir stopped by a corner in an empty hallway by the stairs. Historia stood by her, wondering curiously on why they stopped. The brunette looked at her, her hands fidgeting in her pockets. "Historia…"

The blond paused for a moment, her heart rate increasing as if she was expecting something unexpected to happen. "Ymir?"

"What do you plan on doing when you get out of here?"

The short woman froze. Her shoulders unconsciously stiffened. She had been intentionally avoiding that thought for a while. Because in all honesty, she didn't know what to do. Historia took a breath. Honesty. She would have to start being more honest. For both their sake. She bit her bottom lip. "I...I don't know."

It was a relieving truth. For Historia. She knew this time she could say something and not fear anything. She didn't have to lie. She didn't have to be vague. Because the home she lived in, wasn't even a home anymore. Just the remnants of a man and a woman who lived together with the most toxic of relationships. The blond closed her eyes and she took a deep breath. An invisible weight had lifted from her chest and her shoulders. She didn't feel as tense anymore. She looked up and stared into those gold orbs.

"Come home with me."

The words tumbled out of Ymir's mouth more as instant thought then something she thought about. The brunette pulled her lips in, making a face as she cringed. Historia didn't mind.

"I-I….er, just...Would you like to stay with me for a bit? O-or, I mean, I could stay with you for a bit. It doesn't matter for me, whatever you w-want, " She fumbled with her words.

"Ymir," The blond said her name softly, moving a hand to gently grip hers. She felt the sweaty nervous palm of the brunette and squeezed it. "Of course."

If it meant Historia could spend more time with Ymir, then she wouldn't decline.

The freckled woman paused, her features one of surprise. Then, shaking her head, Ymir straightened herself and cleared her throat. Historia just chuckled and tugged her hand to continue their walk.

They walked in comfortable silence. Both their heads, swarming with all sorts of thoughts. Ymir felt excited and accomplished; Historia felt happy and nervous.


	19. Chapter 19

She expected her first step out of the building to be an overwhelming sensation of freedom. Instead, it felt like any other step she had taken in order to strengthen her legs. Her blue eyes drifted and she looked up at the cloudy sky. The cold blew through her and settled in her bones. The blond took a deep breath. Looking forward, she saw Ymir leaning against her car, patiently waiting for her.

Historia smiled.

"Do you need to pick up anything at your place?" Ymir asked as they both buckled up inside the car. The brunette's fingers drummed on the steering wheel and she stared intently at the shorter woman.

"I….yeah," The blond nodded slowly. She was hesitant at first, not wanting to visit her home in order to avoid a resurgence of dark festering thoughts. But she knew it was for the best that they did. She doubted Ymir had any clothes that would fit her. Historia gave the brunette the address, settling into the passenger's seat.

She looked out the window, watching as they passed by familiar stores and businesses that she had seen so many times before. Since she moved here with Porco, the buildings had remained the same. Only occasionally paint jobs and new shops would change the environment. Historia couldn't help but wonder how long Ymir lived here. Her whole life? A few years? Months? She closed her eyes, lost in thought before she eventually dozed off. When they arrived, a soft touch from Ymir was what woke her up.

Slowly getting out of the car, she looked at Ymir and asked, "Could you please wait here?" The brunette looked perplexed by the request but just nodded. Historia was thankful she didn't question.

The blond froze at the start of the staircase that led to the door of her home. She stared for a moment, feeling a tension creep into her shoulders. Taking a deep breath, she fought the sudden fear that wanted to grasp her heart and pushed forward.

Finding the hidden key for their home, she unlocked the door and took a hesitant step in. Then, gripping the door handle, she slowly closed the door behind her, not looking back at Ymir.

There was no difference in her house. It was the same jow she left it. At least what she could remember from her previous delusional state. It was a chaotic mess. The remains of a toxic relationship that finally broke. Shifting a foot, Historia found herself kicking pieces of glass. She looked down and crouched to pick up a shard from what used to be a liquor bottle. Her fingers trembled as they caressed the smooth surface and she felt herself shivering. She hadn't expected to react this way but the emotions stormed in her and a primal fear clenched her muscles.

When Historia reached forward to flip on a light switch, the power didn't come on. She let out a breath, knowing she shouldn't be surprised. Maybe that's why she was shivering. It was cold. It was cold and she was scared. The blond put a fist to her heart and proceeded forward. Walking through the living room, she felt memories of abuse swarm over her. As she strode past the kitchen, she could remove the scorching feeling of her skin against the heated stove. Porco had, at one point, stumbled through the kitchen and trapped her against the oven when she was in the middle of cooking his dinner. As he touched her with his swampy hands, she leaned against the stove accidentally and burned herself. He had gotten mad when she yelped, he figured she wasn't enjoying it, which he wasn't wrong, and used unnecessary force to put her in "her place".

The blond made her way to their bedroom and she paused in the door frame. She could still see the remainder of his frantic packing before he ran away. Her fingers curled on where she gripped the splintered wood of the door frame. Her blue eyes moved the drawer where she normally kept her stuff and then she went to their bedroom closet to get a suitcase.

Kneeling down to get to the bottom drawers, she started neatly folding her clothes into the bag. It didn't take long to realize how little clothes Historia had. The clothes that were wearable. Most of them had holes or were torn. Some had stains. Mostly blood. She doesn't have to think much to remember how they got there. She remembers how they all got there. The memories were imprinted like scars. They will fade but they won't disappear. She put the ruined clothes to the side and picked up whatever was usable. As she pulled at a pair of jeans, they unfolded and a tie fell out of them. The piece skimmed across her hand and she extended her fingers to take a hold on it. Pulling it closer to take a better look, her thumb rubbed against the fabric. He used to wear a tie all the time. Despite it being a simple color of a deep shade of blue, he used to wear it all the time with a smile. It was a gift from her. And eventually, as months passed by, his smile faded and the tie no longer hung securely around him. It continued to lose its grip as nights passed by and his steps started to become more wobbly. And then it was gone. No longer did he wear it. Her hold tightened and her eyes felt watery.

"I thought I told you to wait outside."

Her weight shifted on the wooden floorboards and they creaked in response. Historia turned her head to look at the brunette, wiping her eyes. They both stared at each other. Ymir's hands were shaking as one held the doorknob and the other held the door frame. The blond looked away and put the tie down. Closing the drawer, she zipped up her suitcase and stood up.

She watched her as Historia slipped past the brunette and out into the hallway. The blond glanced briefly at the ancient grandfather clock that ticked in a rhythm of illusional time. She felt Ymir's eyes burn into the back of her neck.

"...W-what happened?"

Historia turned to face her.

"Love happened."

…

The glass bottle of beer morphed into a water bottle and Ymir had to blink a couple of times to process what happened. When she let the realization settle her, the fact that the bottle had always been water, she grunted and leaned back into the couch. Staring out into space, with her elbows on her knees was getting tiring. A small groan escaped through her lips and she closed her eyes. _What the hell._ She couldn't get the sight of Historia's home out of her mind. It was a wreck. The remains of a battle. The result of constant struggling against violence. Ymir's stomach felt heavy. Oh so heavy. She felt sick. That wasn't an accident. Historia had endured hell and made it through. The brunette desperately wanted to know the story. It made her angry, knowing that the blond had gone through that and Ymir couldn't do anything about it.

She didn't know if she would ever have the stomach to drink alcohol ever again. Not after that. Ymir wanted to avoid resurfacing dark memories for Historia. She wanted to keep her safe. The blond would be staying with the brunette for awhile. Ymir wasn't sure for how long but she knew it would be for a while. Ilse had agreed to this. Her expression was thoughtful as Ymir told her in such a serious tone. The brunette knew the journalist's mind had been working as she spoke to her. Ymir knew Ilse long enough to know those types of things.

Speaking of the dark-haired woman, the sound of the front door unlocking overtook the muffled sound of the tv. Ymir had flipped it on in the middle of the night when she realized she wasn't going to sleep. Historia was resting in her room at the moment and Ymir couldn't get the blond out of her mind.

Ilse tumbled in, quite drunkenly, causing Ymir to head over to her side before her partner fell over. The strong scent of sex and beer flooded Ymir's nostrils and she felt her throat tighten. "This is seriously not the best time," The brunette muttered, slinging her arm over her shoulders, to support the girl.

"W-where is she?" Ilse giggled, her breath tickling Ymir's ear. The brunette guided her to the couch and went into the kitchen to fetch a water bottle.

The freckled woman snorted when she approached Ilse as the woman continued giggling softly to herself with a glaze in her eyes. "You finally did it with Onyan, huh?"

"W-wouldn't you like, hic, to know?"

"You smell like it, Ilse," Ymir rubbed the nape of her neck and sighed. "Why didn't you stay over at his place?"

Ilse fell over, raising her arms in the air before dropping them. "Cause...we didn't...didn't do it at his place!"

"Shhhh," Ymir hushed her friend, glancing briefly at her bedroom's door. The brunette was starting to understand Ilse's annoyance when it came to Ymir's drunken state. Drunk people were hard to handle. The thought made Ymir instantly think of Historia and she shook her head before she went into another session of wondering and fear. "Keep it down."

"Shhhhhh, you keep it down," Ilse whispered, waving a hand. Turning over, the journalist closed her eyes. It wasn't long before Ymir heard her soft snores which allowed the brunette to release a sigh of relief. As much as it was a relief, she realized that Ilse had taken her sleeping spot since the brunette gave her room to Historia. The freckled woman shook her head and grabbed a blanket to place over her friend.

She wasn't going to sleep so there was no point taking Ilse's room. Ymir looked over at the digital clock that rested by the television. The numbers glared back at her, displaying the time of 4:26 in the morning. It wouldn't be long before Ymir would meet up with Mikasa so they could exercise together. The brunette relaxed her shoulders and grabbed one of the many jackets that hung on their coat hanger by the front door. If she was going to think, she might as well walk while doing it.

…

She didn't realize she was that used to the hospital bed until the unfamiliarity of a soft and warm bed sent her into a brief panic as she woke up. It didn't take any more than a few breaths for her to calm down and settle back into the sheets of a queen-sized bed. The warmth made her feel safe and the comfort of sleep was lulling her back into the dream realm. One of Historia's fist clenched the sheets and she buried herself deeper, wanting to get lost in the palace of pillows and sheets.

She dozed off for a couple of minutes before her eyelids fluttered open and she slowly sat up. Historia felt as if she slept for an eternity and she felt better. The blond rubbed her eyes and looked around the room. This was Ymir's room. It had an earthy tone and was fairly clean. There wasn't much in the room but it was much better than the white walls of a hospital room. Slinging her legs over the bedside, her feet met a soft carpet. Historia moved towards the bedroom door and stopped for a moment. After a few seconds of hesitation, she turned the handle and she quietly stepped out. Immediately her blue eyes drifted to the sleeping figure on the couch and she felt an urge to approach Ymir's unconscious state. She wanted to have a quick look at her peaceful state when her emotional eyes weren't working up a storm in her head. The brunette seemed to always be thinking.

As Historia approached the couch, her lips pressed together when she realized the individual who was sleeping on the couch was not the desired brunette.

She wasn't sure what she did to disturb her, but as soon as Historia stood by the arm of the furniture, the figure underneath a blanket jolted up in a tangle of limbs before falling to the floor. The blond woman flinched for a moment, imagining how it must have felt with the sudden impact. Looking down, Historia found herself staring at a hungover expression with confusion glazed in those dark orbs. The look quickly drifted away into realization and their expression wrinkled up as a wave of pain flooded over them. Pinching her nose and taking a deep breath, the woman muttered something to herself before finally looking back at the blond.

"You're Historia?" She asked, picking herself up from the ground and placing the blanket on the couch. She let out a soft groan and stretched.

The short woman pressed her lips together and nodded. "You must be Ilse?" Ymir had mentioned her roommate a few times before to Historia and seemed to think fondly of her. Historia had felt a burning, which she could only title as jealousy, at first but as the brunette had continued talking about her, Historia realized it was nothing more than a platonic relationship.

"Unfortunately," Ilse cringed and moved past Historia to get to the kitchen. She waved a hand for Historia to follow and the blond obeyed. Historia could catch the strong scent of alcohol on the woman and a bile couldn't help but rise in her throat. Forcing it down, Historia watched as Ilse grabbed some pain relievers to save her from the obvious migraine she had. "Would you like anything to drink?"

"Water, please," The blond requested, sitting on a stool by the kitchen's island. Ilse joined her shortly, setting down two glasses of water for both of them. Historia took a drink gingerly and offered her thanks. "Where's Ymir?"

Ilse shrugged, setting her cup down. "I don't know, she tends to disappear," The dark-haired woman pulled out her phone from her back pocket and continued, "Probably working out by this hour."

Historia let her blue eyes drift over Ilse and mused to herself. Ymir's roommate was still wearing her day clothes, already wrinkled from last night's events. The blond wondered if Ilse was naturally this type of person that Ymir failed to mention. Did she come home often?

As if the woman was reading her thoughts, Ilse said, "Before you assume it, I don't normally do this. Hell, I hardly touch alcohol ever. Last night was just...err..different."

"How so?" The blond couldn't help but ask.

Ilse cleared her throat and shook her head. "You'll know soon enough," She took another drink from her glass and finished it. Moving to go get more water, the dark-haired woman asked, "So, Historia, what should I know about you?"

"What should I know about _you_?" Historia countered instead. The small blond wasn't sure if she even had anything she wanted Ilse to know about. She couldn't really say much without darkening the atmosphere, sadly enough. It was a hard truth and Historia didn't know if she would be comfortable enough to even utter a simple detail. She had hardly even told Ymir anything, other than vague statements and comments from her childhood.

"Well," Ilse smiled, not seeming to mind Historia's comeback. She stood on the other side of the counter and looked at her with analytical eyes. "I'm a journalist. And it's obvious you have a story to tell."

The blond swallowed and went to take a sip of her water. "Everyone has a story to tell."

"True, but I can see that yours is quite an interesting one. Can you tell me something?"

"What might that be…?"

"Does Ymir know?"

That question could mean many things and to Historia, it meant everything. She knew that Ymir would have to discover more about her eventually. But she also knew that there would be more to find out about Ymir. They both had stories to tell. A weight that pulled down on their shoulders and continued threatening to pull them below the surface. As much as the brunette seemed to be improving, there was a clear motivation that seemed to be the thing that destroyed her in the first place. Historia had just freed herself from the clutches of a possessive man and she wasn't sure where she was going to go from there. There was a lot to tell and yet…. The blond felt her insides tighten and she shuddered. Taking a deep breath to gain composure, she spoke again.

"You'll know soon enough."

There was silence for what almost seemed like a decade.

The two stared at each other with intensity.

And then..

 _Click!_

The front door opened and a familiar figure walked through the door with a large brown paper bag in her right hand and a cardboard tray of coffee in her other. She shook her shoulders, freeing the cold from her skin and turned to close the door. As she swerved back around, she froze as she realized she had an audience.

"Uh...good morning?" Her expression was a little perplexed and she offered an awkward grin towards the two of them. "I brought breakfast and coffee." She lifted the two items up in her hand and Historia's heart seemed to melt at the dorkish sight of the brunette.

"Welcome home, Ymir," Ilse said, walked around the counter and towards the tall woman to help her with the food. She took the tray of coffee and walked back to Historia. "Your friend and I were just having a friendly discussion."

Ymir made an expression. "What did you two talk about?"

"Nothing," Historia sent a look towards Ilse as the journalist just smirked with obvious amusement. The blonde shook her head. "Absolutely nothing."

"If you say so," Ymir shrugged and stretched an arm to pluck a cup of coffee from the tray and handed it towards Historia. "It's a vanilla latte, figured you're the type who likes sweet stuff." Historia took it thankfully as the brunette clicked her tongue with approval. She swerved on her heel and pointed towards Ilse. "I got you an Americano because I know that you're a soulless human being with no sense of taste."

"You know it," Ilse hummed, taking her cup as she opened the bag that Ymir had brought alongside the coffee. "What's the occasion, you don't usually do this."

The brunette glanced at Historia and the blond suddenly figured it had something to do with her. She smiled to herself and watched as Ymir thought of an excuse. "I woke up early, finished my workout with Mikasa and felt extremely nice today but now that you mention it, this should be the first and last time I do something like this."

Ilse perked an eyebrow. "I wasn't exactly complaining."

"You weren't exactly thankful either," Ymir replied quickly.

Watching how the two of them interacted made Historia realize how long they must have known each other. A feeling of warmth but also sadness flooded her chest and she couldn't help but smile in a wistful way.

"She's quite the character," Ilse muffled to Ymir, directing her bitten breakfast taco at Historia. "Haven't talked to her long but she's definitely a keeper."

The brunette's ears immediately went red and the Historia felt herself fighting back a blush. Ymir bared her teeth at Ilse with a strained grin. "If you're going to be like this, I'll kindly ask you to leave."

"Relax," The dark-haired journalist swallowed her food and waved a hand. "I won't be here long. I have to be at work in like an hour. In fact, I should go shower right now."

"I thought you were hungover?" Historia asked out of curiosity.

"I am, indeed," Ilse confirmed, already making her way out of the kitchen. "But sex and alcohol can't stop me from saving a person's life!" And just like that, the woman disappeared from sight.

Historia looked back at Ymir, who was pinching the bridge of her nose. "I am sorry about her," The brunette apologized and placed herself on the stool next to Historia. "She's just testing the waters with you, I suppose."

The blond chuckled lightly, looking into Ymir's gold orbs. "It's fine, if anything, _she's_ quite the character."

Ymir smirked, laughing lightly. She reached into the paper bag and handed Historia a taco wrapped in tin foil. "So, what do we plan on doing today, Historia?"

" _We_?"

"Mmhmm," The brunette confirmed. "I took a day off just for you."

Historia felt her chest pool with a familiar emotion and she fought back this sudden urge to cry. _Just for me._ Little things seemed to mean so much more now. The blond took a deep breath and thought for a second. "How about a movie marathon?"


	20. Chapter 20

_Her chest felt hollow and her breaths seemed to slow as every second ticked by._ _ **Tik. Tik. Tik. Tik.**_ _The all too familiar noises of an abandoned clock haunted her. The echo of its song bouncing around in her mind. The sound flooded her being and running through every inch of her body until her fingers twitched to the rhythm and her heartbeats followed the pattern._

 _One intake of air._

 _Historia's eyes opened._

 _A cold muzzle of a pistol pressed against the center of her forehead._

 _Beyond that, an empty shell of a man stood, his eyes a glowing white endless void. His lips were pressed together, curved into a frown. Despite the lack of pupils, she knew he stared at her. His head tilted to the side and his eyebrows furrowed to form his expression into one of displeasure. He jerks his hand, pressing the weapon harder against her skin and making contact with her skull._

 _Tears poured down her cheeks, her body quivering violently. Her lips part to say something but she finds herself choking. Warm liquid spills from her mouth and starts to float as if they were bubbles blown from a playful child. The deep scarlet color is enough for Historia to know what it is. It's blood._

 _"_ You're a terrible person. _"_

 _Porco's voice surrounded her._

 _A haunting anthem meant only for her._

 _ **Tik. Tik. Tik. Tik.**_

 _Historia wanted to say something. Anything. But she found it difficult through her tears and the blood that continued to flow from her mouth and ascend into the air. So instead, she closed her eyes and leaned into the pistol. Trembling, she screamed internally with feverish frustration and distraught._ Kill me.

 _He cackled and his lips curled in the wickedest of grins. His empty white eyes illuminated menacingly. Nodding his forward, his expression darkened. And he pulled the trigger._

With a jolt, she woke up. The blond felt her legs bend, knees making contact with her chest. Her heart hammered, it's beats ringing throughout her body. Suddenly it felt as if she was suffocating. Her lungs felt squeezed together. Historia felt her whole body rack as she tried to take in breaths and she placed her hands over her head, not knowing what to do. Her fingers felt numb and a painful tingle was sizzling through her veins. Everything felt warm. Too warm. "Fuck. Holy fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Her fingers curled into a fist and she started to hit the side of her head in an attempt to stop this sudden attack on her body. Her vision seemed to darken as tears continued to stream from her ocean eyes. Rocking herself back and forth, she desperately tried to slow her breaths as she felt as if all the oxygen was being sucked from her body.

From somewhere, a voice called her name. Worried. She was too absorbed with herself to really hear and evaluate it. But as her episode continued and blood pounded in her ears, singing a thundering symphony, she felt something wrap around her body and try to hold her still. Historia's body shuddered and a choked sob escaped. Suddenly, all she could see was Porco's figure towering over her with a pistol pointed at her head. She was so close to death. One simple pull of the trigger could have killed her. She shifted her head, finding herself burying it into a strong shoulder. Historia didn't know how long it took, but progressively things started to slow. The distant voice was growing nearer and the blond immediately recognized it as Ymir's.

"Hey, it's going to be okay, you're safe, I'm here, I got you."

She felt the void between reality and her mind close into nothingness. Pulled back into reality, Historia trembled as she felt an arm wrapped around her. In a steady progression, her breaths slowed and her tears dissolved. The blond moved her head away from the shoulder she had pressed against and met worried gold eyes. A hand unconsciously squeezed the fabric beneath it. The terrifying grip of fear let her go and the comfort of relief flooded through her. There was an overwhelmed feeling fizzling through her veins and into her fingertips. She trembled.

"I...I'm sorry," Historia choked out, pulling herself away from Ymir and getting up from the couch. Wiping her tear stained eyes, she whispered. "I don't know what happened." Her chest felt as if it had just been released from a heavy weight.

Ymir pressed her lips together, staring intently at the blond. Historia could see the question buzzing on the tip of her tongue. The concern, swimming in those golden orbs. Instead of asking though, the brunette stood up and offered a hand. "Want to go for a walk? Looks like you could use some fresh air."

Hesitantly, Historia nodded. She looked away for a second, her heart still beating at an abnormal pace in her chest. Then with a deep breath, she moved to take a hold of Ymir's hand and squeezed it. "Thank you."

Those two words referred to more than just now. She wanted her to know. Historia could still feel her own fingers trying to choke herself to death in order to finish Porco's job. The action, a lurking phantom that didn't want to let go. She didn't know what to do. She still doesn't know what to do and it was frustrating. But Historia hoped to find an answer in Ymir. So she gave her a look that only the brunette could understand.

"Anything for you."

The weight in those words, Ymir's reply, pulled on Historia's heartstrings and made her mouth go dry. Ocean and gold eyes stared deeply into each other for a tense few seconds. The blond found what she was looking for. An answer she needed so desperately. In order for her to escape what her husband left behind. Historia knew she could believe those words more than anything else in this world. And it was enough.

…

"A panic attack?" Mikasa echoed, wiping sweat from her neck as the two stood in her garage, back from their early morning run.

Ymir panted, resting her hands on her knees. Tugging at her tank top and reaching for water, the brunette sent Mikasa an unamused look. "That was a late reply."

The woman's gray emotionless eyes narrowed for a moment. "You're the one who decided to start a conversation in the middle of our run."

"You had slowed down! I figured it would be a good time!"

Mikasa rolled her shoulders. "It's never a good time to talk during a workout. Period."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Ymir sighed, stretching her legs. She knew Mikasa wasn't a talking type in general but it really wasn't like she could consult anyone else. Marcel was still missing, Eren and Ilse were busy and Yelena and Pieck were too wrapped in their own romance that Ymir was a little too uncomfortable to even be around them. Besides, she hadn't been to the bar in well over a month now. The first time Ymir had mentioned Historia to Mikasa was a few days after Historia started staying with her. Then as time continued to pass, Ymir offered more details. And while as uninterested Mikasa might have seemed on the outside, the spark in her eyes and slight change in expression gave Ymir enough reassurance for her to keep talking about the current situation.

Ever since their movie marathon, a binge-watch of the Back to The Future Trilogy, Historia had four more _attacks_ in the past three weeks. It had Ymir worried and she wasn't sure what to do. The brunette had tried explaining to Mikasa in hope for some guidance. It had been hard on the freckled woman because she hated seeing Historia so helpless and she was pretty sure that the blond was having more episodes when she wasn't around. Ymir didn't want to see Historia suffer. She knew that the woman had already suffered enough.

"Well obviously she needs professional help," Mikasa said, closing the garage's door and entering into the house. Ymir followed after her, rubbing her arms in an attempt to fight back the cold.

"No shit?" The black haired beauty glared at her that clearly said "language", making Ymir mutter an apology. "But I don't know if she wants that. She hasn't told me anything, if I should do anything." The brunette hated the thought of making Historia upset.

Mikasa gave a dry chuckle. "It doesn't matter about what she _wants_ , it is about what she _needs_. How is she like around you? Do you know if she has any history of abuse? Past traumas?"

Ymir froze in her steps, making a face. Immediately a memory resurfaced, triggered by Mikasa's questions. Obviously. It was written on the scars all over her body. The bruises. The red angry mark that was around Historia's neck when Ymir had finally seen her again after their moment at Sasha and Nicolo's restaurant.

 _Ymir wasn't one to cook. She hardly cooked for Ilse. It just wasn't her talent. She wasn't exactly bad at it but she prefered to stay away from a stove and oven just to avoid an accident. But right now, she figured it would be a benefit if she tried. Wasn't like she had anything better to do anyways. Besides. Historia was helping her too. It was enough encouragement for the brunette to try and put effort into a meal she would be sharing._

 _Her gold eyes drifted towards the blond who was focused on cutting vegetables for the stew they were making. Historia's slender fingers worked nimbly and her eyebrows were knitted in concentration. Ymir couldn't help but stare a little longer than necessary at her expression. Lately, the blond had been jumpy and a bit nervous. She was always polite and kind but there was something about the demeanor that made Ymir uneasy. Everything felt more forced than natural. Like a defense mechanism in order for Ymir not to know too much about what she was actually feeling. It unsettled Ymir a bit but she didn't know what else to expect. It had only been a little over a week since the blond had decided to stay with the brunette._

 _"_ I think that's enough," _Ymir said, taking a few steps closer to Historia. She picked up a sliced piece of carrot and popped it in her mouth. "_ You can put it in the pot. _"_

 _The smaller woman only nodded and moved over a bit to throw the chopped up pieces of vegetables in. After she finished, she went over to the sink and rinsed her hands. Ymir turned her back and started to tend to the food. She waved a hand behind her and spoke, "_ Can you get some of the spices down from the cabinet, they should be by your left. _"_

 _"_ What would you like exact-, _" Ymir didn't know what happened but she heard the sound of tumbling and the clank of a plastic bottle making contact with the floor. The brunette turned around to see an unlidded bottle of powder spilled on the floor._

 _"_ What happened? _" Ymir watched as the blond immediately kneeled down to scoop up the powder with her hands. The movement was hurried and almost panicked. "_ H-Hey, wait, H-Historia, we have a broom, don't do that." _The freckled woman leaned over and tried to stop Historia's hands._

 _They moved away quickly, as if Ymir hurt her._ "I got it! _" Her voice raised in volume and she scrambled in the direction of where she assumed the broom would be. When it wasn't there, she wildly started to search._

 _"_ What's wrong? _" Ymir asked, concerned by how urgent Historia's actions seemed to be. "_ The broom is in the closet by the bathroom. _" She informed when Historia didn't reply. The blond returned and started to try and clean the mess. Her hands trembled, and the broom slipped through her grip._

 _"_ Here, let me do it, _" Ymir reached for the item but dropped it when Historia gently pushed her back._

 _"_ I told y-you, I would do it, _" Historia picked it back up and started to sweep almost desperately._

 _Ymir's eyebrows furrowed. "_ Hey, what's wrong? _" Ymir raised a hand to place on Historia's shoulder but the blond instantly flinched away and dropped the broom once more. Her arms twitched as if she was restraining to move them. The blond didn't make eye contact with the brunette but the freckled woman could see the swollen look in her blue orbs as if she was trying to hold back tears. Ymir frowned. And she started to think that she knew what was the matter. A memory of a shattered glass bottle flashed in her mind for a second and Ymir's fingers curled into a fist. That broken home she had entered…._

 _Historia noticed the formation Ymir made with her hands and moved slowly backwards. "_ I-I'm s-sorry…"

 _The brunette's eyes widened and Ymir looked down, shaking her head, she took a step forward and tried to make a reassuring gesture. "_ No, Historia, that's not why. I wouldn't do that-" _The blond was scared. Ymir could see from how her chest moved in quick breaths and her shoulders shook. The brunette wanted to cry too. She could hardly imagine what Historia had been through and she desperately wanted to hurt the person that made her endure whatever she did. Ymir pressed her lips together and walked towards Historia. The blond stiffened as the brunette neared and Ymir felt her heart break. Hovering over the blond, they stared at each other for a few moments. And then…_

 _Ymir felt Historia's tense shoulders relax against her arms and Ymir hugged her with as much care as she could offer. She felt the blond grip her shirt and sniffle. Slowly the two crumbled to the ground and Ymir found herself holding a crying Historia. Ymir pressed her lips against the top of her head and ran a hand through her golden locks. The smaller woman gripped her tightly, quietly crying. Ymir felt herself break in more than one way. Anger ran through her veins and a warmth of caring and protectiveness filled her chest. She wanted to help Historia in any way she could._

"That look alone answers my question," Mikasa said cooly. Ymir shook herself out of her thoughts and looked at the black haired beauty. "What are you thinking? She needs help, _give_ it to her."

The brunette sighed, placing herself on the living room's couch. Putting her hands on her face, she felt emotion overwhelm her chest. Mikasa was right. No doubt about that. Ymir really couldn't do much other than be there for Historia. She obviously needed to be around good people and Ymir wanted to be that person. She didn't want her to suffer anymore and that would require the blond to get professional help. The comfort from another person wouldn't be enough. Ymir knew that. As much as she had supportive friends throughout her grieving period over her loss and even then that wasn't enough.

"So what should I do?" Ymir muttered, lifting her head to gaze at Mikasa who stared down at her.

"What do you think you should do?" She countered.

The brunette rubbed the back of her neck. "Talk to her."

That was it.

They just needed to talk.

About everything…


End file.
